Precipitous
by steelcrash
Summary: A year after the events in Egypt, the Autobots learn Optimus Prime is no longer the only Prime. And that new Prime is having a hard time adjusting to his new circumstances.
1. Chapter 1

Precipitous

Part 1-Downhill

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Earth was still new but the routine was not. The familiarity of the faces and procedure made it feel like nothing had changed, but it had. A place to call home. Those were the words that had drawn them to Earth. And not to mention the human allies of the Autobots. Alien and organic, they weren't all that different, given their small stature and shorter life spans. But those were thoughts for another time. Like when he was off duty.

Shift change went smoothly. Hot Rod was all smiles as he took over from Ironhide, even though he was working a rare night shift. The overnighters tended to have a skeleton crew, headed up by Jazz, but overseeing them all this particular night was Prowl. Hot Rod figured if he kept his head down and did as he was told, the 12 hours would fly by quickly. But it was not to be.

--

Carrying a stack of datapads from Jazz's office to ops for Prowl, Hot Rod rounded the corner into ops, not expecting to run smack into the object of his affection. The pads went crashing to the floor, eliciting glances from the others in ops, and a glare from Prowl and a look of sympathy from the mech who'd plowed him over.

Prowl ignored the sympathetic mech, shouldered past, said, coming over to help pick up the datapads. "What is wrong with you?" the second in command demanded of Hot Rod.

"Nothing. . ." Hot Rod stammered.

"Help me organize these, then get back to your station," Prowl said.

Hot Rod said nothing as he helped Prowl sort the pads and deposited them at the second-in-command's station. He received a curt nod for his assistance, then hauled himself over to his own terminal, where he was conducting monitor duty.

Four monotonous hours later, he stretched, taking a quick look around. Prowl was still going through the datapads, Blaster was quietly bopping to the music piping through his private comm line, Blurr was darting from terminal to terminal, taking readings and Sideswipe looked like he was playing a video game.

Much to Hot Rod's chagrin, Prowl caught him looking up from his monitor.

"I'm putting together a list of supplies we still need," Prowl said. "I'll give it to you by shift's end, and if you can pass it along to Springer as soon as possible, it would be much appreciated."

"Sure," Hot Rod said.

"That's not all," Prowl said. "The C-17 carrying Lennox's team will be landing in about 20 minutes. Since I'm in charge of the watch, I'm giving you the responsibility of meeting the plane. I'm sure you know the routine by now."

Hot Rod bit back a retort, choosing instead to give Prowl a curt nod.

Prowl clapped him on the shoulder, walking back to his station.

--

Hot Rod stood on the tarmac, watching the first of the two NEST C-17s taxi to a stop. He wasn't alone, flanked by the human second in command, British Special Air Services Solider Graham. The Autobot heard the human yawn, spared him a glance.

"You could go back to your quarters, you know," Hot Rod said. "It's not like I'm going to tell anybody if you do."

"I'm here, like you, because we have our orders," Graham said. "Don't think I wouldn't be back in my bed in an instant if I could, but. . ."

"I know," Hot Rod said, venting air.

Graham was now familiar with the Autobot equivalent of a sigh.

"Prowl's not letting you off the hook, is he?"

"Hardly," Hot Rod said.

Before human and Cybertronian could finish the conversation, the cargo door on the plane closest to them opened and the first of its passengers began disembarking.

Lennox reached them first, followed by Epps.

"How'd it go, sir?" Graham asked.

"We lost 'em," Epps answered for Lennox.

The major shot the sergeant a look. "We didn't 'lose' anything," Lennox said. "They got away. And this is the last time I take Skids and Mudflap on a mission without adult supervision. They're not leaving this place again unless Optimus, Prowl or Ironhide are along on the mission. No offense to Jazz, but those two. . ."

Hot Rod watched Epps and Graham exchange a knowing glance while Lennox suddenly focused his own gaze on Hot Rod.

"You're not going to de-brief those two, are you? They need a trip to the brig. Can't you guys bounce them up to that ship of Springer's, throw them out an airlock or something?" Lennox asked.

"Ask Optimus," Hot Rod said. "Preferably in the morning."

Lennox frowned, but he knew the young Autobot wasn't trying to deflect him on purpose.

"Look, I know it's just your job to make sure we're all in one piece and report back to Prowl, but can't you, I don't know, maybe say something to Ironhide?" Lennox asked.

"You could," Hot Rod said.

"I'm not waking him up," Lennox said.

"And neither am I," Hot Rod said. "Wait--why won't Jazz. . ."

"He said he's done with those two after this mission," Lennox said.

Hot Rod shot Graham a glance. The human was just as startled as he was. If the normally amiable, laid back Jazz wasn't going to stand up for the twins, than they must've done something to really piss him off.

"It was bad," Lennox said. "That's all you need to know. 'Night, Hot Rod. Graham, c'mon. We've got a few things to discuss. You can fill in hot shot here in the morning."

Hot Rod nodded at the humans, turned his attention to the Autobots now leaving the plane. Jazz, Arcee and the twins were the first off; Jolt and Sunstreaker followed off the other.

"Everybody all right?" Hot Rod asked Jazz as he approached.

"Took some heavy fire, but nothing that can't wait until morning," Jazz said. "Gonna go turn in now. Say hello to Prowler for me."

Hot Rod grinned at Jazz. "Sure thing," he said.

Jazz nodded, herding Skids and Mudflap along as they headed toward the hangar that was the Autobot living quarters. Arcee, all three of her, gave Hot Rod a suggestive glance as she passed by. Oh frag, he thought.

"If I were you, I'd be following them back to quarters."

Sunstreaker.

"Yeah, well, you're not me, are you?"

"No," Sunstreaker said. "Thank the Allspark."

It was then Hot Rod noticed Sunstreaker was cradling his left arm, and if he wasn't mistaken, the gold twin had black blast marks across his chest.

"Are you all right?" Hot Rod asked.

"Nothing that won't enrage Hatchet until morning," Sunstreaker said.

"You're sure?"

"It isn't bad," Sunstreaker said. "Jazz turned off the pain sensors in my shoulder, so I can at least get some rest."

"If you say so," Hot Rod said.

Sunstreaker walked away without so much as a nod. Jolt followed, leaving Hot Rod alone.

-----

Prowl cocked an optic ridge as Ratchet came tearing into ops. It was 0330. The Autobot second in command couldn't imagine a reason for Ratchet to be angry unless someone had come back from the mission hurt and hadn't said anything. Hot Rod had relayed to him indeed, there wasn't anything major, but from the look on Ratchet's face and the fact he had stopped at Hot Rod's station and now had him pinned to his console, it looked like something had happened.

"What were you thinking, letting Sunstreaker go like that? Are you that dense? If *he* says it's not bad, it probably is," Ratchet growled. "Next time, I don't care if he says it's only a scratch, GET ME FIRST. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

"Yes sir," Hot Rod managed.

Ratchet let him go. "You're lucky he's a twin. Otherwise, Sunstreaker would probably be dead if Sideswipe hadn't gotten me. You've got a lot to learn," the medic said. "And you better start learning fast."

Ratchet stalked away, muttering. Hot Rod looked away from the medic's retreating form to Prowl's post. The second in command did not look happy. And he promptly proceeded to tell Hot Rod how unhappy he was.

-----

0645. Forty-five minutes past the end of his shift and he'd just been turned loose. Hot Rod stood outside the door to the quarters he shared with Springer, fervently hoping when he opened the door he wouldn't find his friend in the same situation he had the last time he'd taken a night shift--happily twined and sharing an interface with Ironhide on *his* berth. That was a sight Hot Rod knew he was never going to purge from his processor. So now, he'd taken to comming Springer before entering.

:Are you alone?:

:Depends:

:Jackass: Hot Rod replied, walking into his quarters as the door slid open at Springer's command.

"How was last night?" Springer asked, grinning.

"Got my proverbial aft handed to me by Ratchet and lectured by Prowl. In front of everyone," Hot Rod said.

"Just another night at the office, as the humans say, eh, Rodi?" Springer said.

"Unfortunately," Hot Rod said. "I'm surprised to find you alone."

"Up until a little bit ago, I wasn't," Springer said. "'Hide said we can use his quarters instead. So you don't have to worry anymore."

"Uh huh," Hot Rod said. "Speaking of worrying, has Ironhide told Lennox about you two yet?"

"Not exactly," Springer said. "He's not sure how he's gonna take it."

"Almost everyone else knows," Hot Rod said.

"You could tell him. He likes you," Springer said.

"No," Hot Rod said. "Now if you don't mind, I need to get a few hours of recharge before I have to go sit in on the de-brief."

"Have fun," Springer said.

"Ah frag. . ." Hot Rod said, suddenly remembering the data pad he was supposed to relay from Prowl to Springer.

"What's the matter?"

"Forgot to give you a requisition from Prowl," Hot Rod said. "More supplies. I didn't get the list when I left ops."

Springer suddenly looked very, very annoyed. "Good thing you did forget," he said. "It'll give me the chance to have a little talk with our dear second in command. He can't keep coming to me for supplies when pretty soon, there won't be any supplies. Once what we have on the Xantium is gone, that's it. He of all mechs should realize. . ."

"Get the list and go to Optimus and see if you can get some of it off the Ark. Or just see Jazz," Hot Rod said.

"Or I can give the list to you and you and Graham can work your magic and find what we need," Springer said.

"Whatever," Hot Rod said, settling back on his berth.

"See you later," Springer said.

Hot Rod didn't respond. He was already in recharge.

-----

The de-briefing went down like the human Titanic, Hot Rod thought, and that was *before* Lennox informed Optimus Prime about what Skids and Mudflap had done. Jazz remained silent throughout the meeting, arms crossed, his face solemn. And Hot Rod himself wasn't allowed to hear what had happened because he'd been ordered to remove the twins from the hangar.

Once outside, the twins turned their ire on Hot Rod, but he stopped them before they got started.

"One more word, and I'll give you to Ironhide for target practice," Hot Rod said. "Or I'll do it myself."

Twenty minutes of watching the two fume later, the hangar door opened.

Lennox gave the twins a feral grin as he passed by. "Nice knowin' you two," he said.

Optimus Prime followed, bearing down on the two.

"You're being sent to the Xantium for the next two weeks," Optimus said. "To the brig. During which time you can think about your behavior of late and the mission you compromised."

"That's just a bunch of. . ." Mudflap started, but Skids punched his brother in the head.

"That's enough," Optimus said. "I wouldn't move if I were you, because Roadbuster is going to initiate an orbital jump at any moment. Wouldn't want you to lose any body parts."

Suddenly, a shaft of light appeared in a blaze, engulfing the twins and as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.

"What did they do?" Hot Rod finally asked.

Optimus turned to him. "You do not want to know," he said.

-----

The safety and quiet of his quarters should have been a nice change, but it wasn't. Hot Rod had a report to write, and as usual, it was late. He and Graham had spent the afternoon getting together the supplies Prowl requested. The second in command was happy, Jazz was talking again and Optimus was a little less tense with the absence of Skids and Mudflap. Hot Rod only wished he could be so lucky.

Since coming to Earth, he'd had responsibilities he never wanted thrown at him. As part of Springer's Wreckers, he'd had enough to keep him busy. Being his friend's second in command had been an honor, and he'd been proud to serve in that capacity. But never again, he'd been told.

Hot Rod knew it was a little over a year since the battle with the Fallen and the retrieval of the Matrix of Leadership, which was now carried by Optimus Prime. The Wreckers had been on Earth seven months, two weeks, three days and 17 hours. He knew exactly to the second how long it had been since everything changed.

One of the brands Hot Rod bore marked him as a Prime. Optimus Prime had singled him out as such because the Matrix came alive at the presence of another Prime. Lucky me, Hot Rod thought.

It was just crazy. Nothing was the same anymore. Autobots he'd known a long time didn't treat him the same and Optimus was no exception. The Autobot leader had gone from treating him as a subordinate to treating him as an equal. Springer still treated him the same; as did Ironhide. Prowl had moments where he treated him as he always had--an inexperienced punk who still had much to learn, but sometimes. . .

And the humans. . .Hot Rod knew he hadn't yet lived up to their expectations of what a Prime should be, considering they had the best example in the world, and then he came along. They even called him by the new name he'd been given--Rodimus Prime.

That galled more than he could say. Hot Rod still thought of himself as Hot Rod. Springer called him Rodi, always would. Ironhide called him Rodimus, just to annoy him, but it wasn't malicious, so he didn't mind.

Hot Rod's train of thought was broken when the door chimed. "Enter," he said, looking up from his data pad.

Ironhide.

"If you're looking for Springer, he's up on the Xantium and he won't be back for a few hours," Hot Rod said.

"I thought so," Ironhide said. "But now that I'm here, how are you?"

"Trying to finish this report so Prowl doesn't rip my head off," Hot Rod said.

"He'd never do that to a Prime," Ironhide said. "Even if that Prime is you."

"Wanna test that theory?" Hot Rod said.

"Rodimus, I know this has been a hard transition to make, but you have responsibilities now. It's a hard burden to bear, but you're not alone. Prowl respects the title of Prime, what it means. And he's more than a little upset at the prospect of being replaced by you because you're a Prime," Ironhide said.

"I am not replacing anyone," Hot Rod said. "Especially Prowl."

"You need to tell him that," Ironhide said.

"Or Optimus can," Hot Rod retorted.

Ironhide didn't gratify him with a response. He decided to change the subject.

"Did you know Arcee's been asking about you again?" Ironhide said.

"You should have seen the look she gave me last night," Hot Rod said.

"Maybe you should have a talk with her," Ironhide said. "You're lucky to have a femme interested in you. And you'd be well within your rights as Prime to initiate a relationship. . ."

"Whoa. Stop right there," Hot Rod said. "'Well within my rights?' What the hell are you talking about?"

"The fact you're a Prime, no doubt, has helped make you more attractive to Arcee. Are you that dense? You've finally given her a reason to look past your arrogance and. . ."

From the look on Hot Rod's face, Ironhide knew he'd hit a proverbial nerve. Hot Rod had been anything but arrogant the past few months. Sarcastic, difficult, angry, yes. Arrogant, not much, but he'd shown moments of his trademark cockiness, but only sparingly.

"Arcee's just looking for somebody to spark an offspring with, and that is not going to be me, Prime or not," Hot Rod said.

"You don't know what you're missing out on," Ironhide said.

"Do you know how many times on Cybertron she rejected me?" Hot Rod said. "And now, I'm not gonna take that bait. If she wanted me for me, she could have me. But otherwise, no way in the human hell."

"Have someone else in mind, do you?" Ironhide asked, a mirthful gleam in his optics.

"Hardly," Hot Rod said. "Ironhide, c'mon. I have work to do."

Ironhide gave the younger Autobot a wan smile.

"You should at least talk to Arcee," he said.

Hot Rod hmphed, already again engrossed in his report.


	2. Chapter 2

Precipitous

Part 2-Demanding

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

0130. Optimus Prime walked into the rec room, not expecting to find anyone there. But one table was occupied by a single Autobot. Rodimus, head resting on his folded arms, in recharge. An unusual sight, considering. Curious, the Autobot leader thought. He knew he shouldn't interrupt the other's rest, but Rodimus' presence in the rec room, alone, at such an hour warranted a disruption.

He reached out, put a hand on the other Autobot's shoulder, shook him gently awake. Rodimus looked up, surprised to see his leader. Fellow Prime, he corrected himself.

"What are you doing here by yourself?" Optimus asked.

"Avoiding a sight that will plague me the rest of my life," Hot Rod muttered.

"Springer and Ironhide are. . .taking advantage of your quarters?" Optimus asked.

"Unfortunately," Hot Rod said.

"And you have no place else to go?" Optimus asked. "I'm sure Arcee would welcome your company. . ."

Hot Rod shot Optimus a glare, felt guilty, then remembered he was now his equal, kept on glaring.

"Or not," Optimus said. "If you do not mind my prying, why are you reluctant to consider her?"

"I do mind the prying," Hot Rod said, standing.

"I'm sorry," Optimus said. "The next time you need a place to bunk, feel free to use my quarters. I'm not there most of the time anyway, so someone might as well use them. Or you know, you could request your own quarters. It is your right."

"Thanks," Hot Rod said.

"You can go there now, if you like. I'm taking over the second half of the watch for Jazz. Something about needing to set things straight with Prowl. . ."

-----

So much for Springer and Ironhide using the weapon master's quarters, Hot Rod thought as he left Optimus' quarters. He'd taken him up on the offer mainly because he had no desire to be caught out in the open by Arcee in the middle of the night and also because he was tired. Come to think of it, Optimus was probably due some rest now too considering he'd taken over the night watch, but probably not, knowing how stubborn that mech could be.

His thoughts cycled back to Arcee as he made his way to ops. Once, he would've been happy to take her up on her advances, but not now, not when everything had changed. He knew he was going to have to talk to her about it, hopefully later rather than sooner. Hot Rod wanted to put off that conversation as long as possible.

-----

The base was quiet with the exception of the normal human and Autobot activities. Except it was calmer than usual because of the absence of Skids and Mudflap, Graham reflected as he walked into the NEST command center. A few of his American counterparts were deep in conversation, and as one of their commanding officers, he couldn't help but overhear what they were saying, and they didn't bother dropping their voices.

As the conversation dragged on as he was waiting for Epps and Lennox to show up for their transmission to talk with Morshower, Graham grew more annoyed, finally deciding to say something.

"For your information, Rodimus is indeed a Prime, Optimus' equal. He is young and inexperienced, and he deserves the benefit of the doubt and our respect. If I hear you talking in such a manner again regarding any NEST personnel, human or Autobot, there will be consequences," Graham said.

He earned himself a glare and a reserved sigh, but it was the right thing to do. Some NEST personnel still hadn't managed to wrap their head around the fact there was indeed another Prime in their midst. The ones who had a problem with Rodimus kept comparing him to Optimus. Of course, there really was no comparison because Optimus was Optimus and Rodimus was well, Rodimus. Graham had a close working relationship with Optimus because he was part of the chain of command but he'd managed to develop a real friendship with Rodimus.

Even Rodimus admitted on more than one occasion there was no one else like Optimus. It was a hell of a standard to have to live up to, and so far, Rodimus hadn't broken under the pressure. Bent, swayed and rebelled but he hadn't broken.

The soldier looked at his watch, sighed, resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he heard footsteps pounding up behind him.

"We've been waiting for you, sir," Graham said as he watched Lennox pass by with a nod, then climbed the scaffolding up to the communications platform.

-----

From the Autobot perspective, quiet could be bad for many reasons. It could mean someone was plotting something, usually the enemy, but quiet meant down time and too much downtime lead to pranks and other disruptive behavior. Or other bad conduct Prowl reflected, flinching when he heard voices rising from the direction of Optimus' office next door to his own.

He thought about stepping in to see what he could do to deflect the argument, but the second in command knew there probably wasn't much he could do to stave it off. Instead, he decided to let his leader and work it out on his own.

Inside Optimus' office, he was staring down his fellow Prime, arms folded, refusing to back down.

"Don't lecture me about the duty of a Prime," Hot Rod said. "It's all I've heard since we landed on this mud ball."

"Arcee is interested in you," Optimus said. "Do you know how many mechs would be happy to trade you places? And it is the opportunity to help realize the future of our people.

"I'm not ready to be anyone's creator," Hot Rod said. "And if you're so hell-bent on helping bring about a new generation, why don't you interface with Arcee?"

"You should at least give her interest serious consideration," Optimus said.

The retort he received in Cybertronian over his private frequency made the Autobot leader flinch, just a millimeter. He watched Rodimus walk out of his office, shook his head in frustration before turning his attention back to his reports.

-----

Prowl and Jazz sat next door in Prowl's office, enjoying each other's company and the high grade Jazz had brought along.

"That was a quite a row," Prowl said, taking a sip of energon.

"It's been what, two weeks since the last one, so they were due," Jazz said.

"If you say so," Prowl said. "By the way, it's your turn to go knock some sense into our intrepid leader."

"Thanks for reminding me," Jazz said, standing up. He walked out of Prowl's office, rounded the corner into Prime's.

"I'd apologize if I were you," Jazz said.

Optimus didn't miss a beat, didn't look up, kept reading reports.

"I didn't mean to set Rodimus off," Optimus said. "If he's already seeing someone. . ."

"Are you kidding?" Jazz said. "He's been so busy he's barely had time to recharge."

"I did find him recharging in the rec room last night," Optimus said. "He did take me up on the offer of using my quarters when I'm not there. Ironhide hasn't exactly followed through on using his quarters for. . ."

"Extracurricular activities with Springer," Jazz said. "Why doesn't he just request his own quarters?"

Optimus looked up. "Because Rodimus is as stubborn as they come."

"That's an understatement," Jazz said. "But you know what might help?

Jazz had to keep himself from smiling. At least he had his leader's full attention now.

"If you have any suggestions that might make life easier for both Rodimus and I, I would be very happy to hear them," Optimus said.

"Give him his old job back," Jazz said. "He was one of the best unit commanders we had on Cybertron."

"He is a Prime. If anything happens to me, it will be up to. . ."

"Yeah, I know," Jazz said. "Spare me this lecture again. He's young, and if you'd actually pay attention, you'd know he is fully aware of his position now and all of the responsibilities that go with it. I'm just suggesting you back off and let him do his job. How long's it been since he's seen any action? No, don't answer, because I can tell you how long--three months. Get him back on the mission roster and I can guarantee you he'll be a lot easier to deal with."

"But he still has much to learn," Optimus said.

"So did you," Jazz said. "And Ultra Magnus and the council rode you hard, so there's no reason to do the same to Hot Rod. He'll only rebel under the pressure. And since when is it OK to keep him away from combat when you're always in the thick of it? Seems to me you're hastening along that day when Rodi might have to take over."

-----

Jazz found Hot Rod fuming in his quarters. It took a little persuading, but he finally managed to get the young Autobot outside, onto the beach, where they could talk.

"You're getting your old job back," Jazz said.

"What?" Hot Rod asked, incredulous.

"Unit commander," Jazz said. "Optimus didn't say no, so I'd count on it if I were you. I'll be putting you into the combat rotation as soon as you're ready, if you want."

Hot Rod looked at Jazz as if he'd suddenly grown another head.

"What happened to the whole 'protecting the legacy of the Primes' thing? Preserving the tradition of leadership?" Hot Rod said.

"I gave Prime the idea it might make you a little easier to live with," Jazz said. "Don't go proving me wrong. And I hear he's offered you the use of his quarters because of Springer and Ironhide. Although I'm surprised you two aren't sharing a berth by now."

"Jazz. . ."

"Just hear me out," Jazz said. "I know you're attracted to him."

"Attracted to that. . .pompous, overbearing, stubborn mech?" Hot Rod said.

"You're right about the stubborn part," Jazz said. "He can be overbearing at times but pompous?"

"Well, maybe not pompous but by the Allspark, he is stubborn," Hot Rod said.

"Must be one of the qualities to be Prime," Jazz said. "Seems you two share that trait."

"Unfortunately," Hot Rod said.

"And about that whole Arcee thing. . ."

"Not talking about it," Hot Rod said.

"That's fine with me," Jazz said. "But you're gonna have to deal with it eventually."

Hot Rod didn't answer. Instead, he was looking out at the ocean.

Jazz resigned himself to the silence. At least he'd gotten Hot Rod to listen, which was more than Prime could say. Hot Rod was a young, attractive, desirable mech. Jazz could see why Arcee would want him as a mate. Hot Rod was also a Prime, and to Jazz, it made perfect sense, as Primes, for Hot Rod and Optimus to be together. Just didn't look like they saw it that way yet. Maybe Hot Rod did, but he was in denial that he could have what he wanted and Optimus just hadn't noticed the sparks flying when he was with Hot Rod. The idea of those two bonding made more sense than Hot Rod and Arcee. The union of two Primes would probably produce another Prime, if that was how the whole Prime thing worked.

He pushed it from his mind, deciding to instead enjoy a little time away from his duties. They'd be back in the thick of it before they knew it.

-----


	3. Chapter 3

Precipitous

Part 3-Responsibility

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod rolled down the C-17's ramp, transformed as he hit pavement. He sighed as he felt drops of water start to pound down on his armor. At least the storm waited until the plane landed, he reflected as he limped his way toward the Autobots' main hangar. He was holding himself back from the others. He knew a lecture was coming, no matter whose fault it had been. Prowl was still alive, but for how long, was debatable.

Ironhide's words were still rattling around in his processor, and no matter how much reassurance the weapon master had given him, Hot Rod knew what had happened was his fault. He would have to take responsibility, as was his duty as a Prime. Prowl had made the decision on his own, and Hot Rod let him make it. The Decepticon Bombshell was dead, but Octane and Kickback had gotten away. There were no human fatalities, which was a plus.

Even Graham had reassured him that he'd done the right by letting Prowl engage the two smaller Decepticons on his own while the main combined NEST forces of human and Autobots took on the massive triple changer Octane. But it didn't change the facts--he was in charge, it was his call, and ultimately he was responsible for those under his command and their actions.

Only pride and sheer stubbornness were keeping Hot Rod on his feet as he trudged to the hangar, but he couldn't take it anymore. He fell to his knees, down on all fours, retched, purging. Primus, he hurt, continued to heave until he felt himself hoisted up by a pair of mechs.

Supporting him from the left was Springer, on his right, Ironhide.

"You two should leave me out here to rot," Hot Rod said.

"Whatever," Springer said. "Can't leave you outside for the humans to trip over."

"No matter what you think of what happened today," Ironhide said. "You did what you had to do. So was Prowl."

"Was? He isn't. . ."

"No," Springer said. "Not yet. Still holding on, but barely. Ratchet and Red Alert are working on him. Perceptor's taking care of everyone else and by the looks of things, you should let him see you, too."

"I'm fine," Hot Rod said.

"Typical Prime," Ironhide muttered. "Can't stand on his own and he says he's fine."

"I'm going to knock your heads together and leave you for Ratchet," Springer said. "Those are new gouges on your arm."

"A few scratches can wait," Ironhide said.

-----

Graham suffered through the morning briefing and teleconference with Washington, D.C., was now glad he didn't have to relate the night's events again, at least not until he sat down to write his report. The mission could have been much worse, he reflected as he walked toward the Autobot hangar. Prowl was going to live thanks to the valiant efforts of Ratchet and Red Alert, although how much longer Rodimus was going to remain functioning after Optimus Prime was done with him was anyone's guess.

Singapore, fighting in the rain against three Decepticons instead of two. A hell of a battle it had been, Graham thought. He glanced down at his left arm, which was now in a sling, thanks to a dislocated shoulder suffered when he'd been thrown back from an explosion. He was cut up, bruised, but still standing. And now he was free for a while, the soldier wanted to check on his Autobot friends.

He passed the rec room, cutting through ops, nodding at Jazz and Sideswipe as he passed. He entered the med bay, taking note of how quiet it was. That was a rare thing, but when Graham saw who was sitting at Ratchet's customary perch by a patient, he knew why the place was quiet. The female Autobot, Red Alert, medic for the Wreckers who usually spent most of her time up on the Xantium, was sitting beside Prowl, watching the readouts on the monitors attached to the second in command.

Red Alert's optics didn't move away from Prowl's monitors. "If you're looking for Rodimus, he's in his quarters," she said. "At least that's where he should be. If he's not. . ."

She let her warning trail off, realizing she was talking to a human who was a friend with the wayward young Prime.

"How's Prowl?" Graham asked.

"Doing much better now," Red Alert said. "His antics have earned him a protracted stay here in the med bay, but I'm sure it's better than the alternative. I just have one question--did he decide to fight the two Decepticons on his own, or did Rodimus order it?"

"Prowl ran the odds and decided our best chance of success was splitting our forces," Graham said. "So the decision was mutual. I'm as much to blame as those two because the most senior Autobot and human on a NEST mission share leadership. Although I thought when he meant 'splitting up' he meant more than just himself. . ."

"His logic was flawed," Red Alert said.

"I'm sure you'll tell him that when he wakes," Graham said.

"I already did. So did Ratchet and Jazz," Red Alert said. "Prowl was awake for a short time earlier."

"See you later," Graham said, leaving. He didn't want to hear anything more about Prowl's logic. He'd heard enough about it from Ironhide on the flight back to Diego Garcia. He made his way to the Autobot living quarters, thinking. Before leaving, Optimus had made it clear that Rodimus was to share command of the mission with Graham, with Prowl backing up Rodimus. Graham knew Rodimus planned on taking up the issue with Optimus. Either he was going to let him learn to lead or he was going to keep him on a leash.

He reached the quarters Rodimus shared with Springer, hit the chime (thankfully when they'd refitted the hangar they'd taken humans into account), waited for the door to slide open. As it did, Graham walked in, watched Rodimus roll uneasily to a sitting position on his berth.

"You look like I feel," Hot Rod said.

"Glad to see your sense of humor is still intact," Graham said, giving his friend a smile.

"I have a feeling by the end of the day it's the only part of me that will still be functioning," Hot Rod said.

"Managed to avoid Optimus so far, eh?" Graham asked.

"Hell yes," Hot Rod said. "But that's only because Red Alert ran interference for me. And, as usual, I owe her. That and she wasn't in any mood this morning to take any grief from anyone, including Optimus."

Graham pulled up a packing crate kept in Rodimus' quarters for his visits, sat down. He didn't know much about the female medic beyond the fact she exhibited some of the same tendencies as Ratchet sometimes and was a fantastic medic.

"It sounds like you've known her a while," Graham said.

"Red and I served in the same squad a while right at the beginning of the war when Springer and I had just joined the militia," Hot Rod said. "She was doing a rotation to learn combat medicine. She's the reason why I'm still alive. Not only can she patch up a mech, she's a hell of a fighter, too, but that's a story for another day."

"How did she end up with the Wreckers?" Graham said.

"Got tired of the politics at High Command," Hot Rod said. "That and Optimus asked her if she'd consider joining the Wreckers as a personal favor to him. Ratchet recommended her, and how could she say no to the Prime? That wasn't the only reason, though. She'd just lost someone she was very close too. . .but I know she was looking for a challenge, a change, and the Wreckers gave her that, although being the only femme on that crew was asking for trouble."

Graham raised an eyebrow. He'd heard stories in the half-year since the Wreckers' arrival, knew the crew consisted of the best and toughest the Autobots had to offer. He knew most of the unit by name and reputation, even though he hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting them all in person. And now, listening to Rodimus talk about Red Alert, noticed how the Autobot held the medic in different regard to how he acted and talked about the other Autobot female, Arcee.

Unlike some of the humans in NEST, Graham no longer had a problem asking questions when they came to mind, especially since he considered Rodimus one of his closest friends among his Cybertronian comrades. Although the question he was about to ask was potentially sensitive considering Rodimus' problems of late with Arcee, but he had to ask anyway.

"You seem to regard Red Alert differently than Arcee," Graham said. "Why is that? She's the only other female and it seems to me every male on base would be vying for her attention also. . ."

The look in Rodimus' optics made his blood run cold, but he knew the Autobot wouldn't do anything like, say, squish him. No, lately, Rodimus seemed to be saving his worst bouts of anger for Optimus.

"Yes, Red is female, but she's a medic, and frankly, even though she is a female, most of the mechs here and on the Xantium are too afraid to approach her because she is a medic," Rodimus said. "A medic trained by Ratchet, who picked up some of his mannerisms. And about Arcee--I tried to get her attention for a very long and she never gave me the time of day. She always thought I was too immature, temperamental, you name it, I've been called it. Suddenly I have a new name and status and she takes an interest. How am I supposed to take that? I do respect Arcee and maybe if she backed off, maybe I'd give things a chance, but I don't know. . ."

"Speaking of Arcee, you might want to know what happened last night," Graham said. "I heard this from Sideswipe this morning because he wouldn't shut up about it."

Hot Rod frowned.

"How did Sideswipe have time to hear any gossip and spread it around between repairs last night, the briefing this morning and everything else?" he said.

Graham shrugged. "Because he heard it from Sunstreaker," he said.

Hot Rod sat back against the wall, crossed his arms. That explained it.

"Sunstreaker propositioned Arcee last night in the rec room, she shot him before Optimus could separate them and now he's in the brig," Graham said.

"For how long?"

"Tomorrow at least," Graham said.

Hot Rod knew his friend was gossiping, stalling, trying to keep him from asking the question that he should have asked to begin with, but hadn't. He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway.

"How's Prowl?"

"Red Alert said he'll be in the med bay a while, but he should make a full recovery," Graham said. "And she also said Prowl woke for a few minutes this morning."

Graham watched Rodimus relax, tension draining from the young Autobot's frame.

"That's good to hear," Hot Rod said. "I would have gone down to see how he's doing but I have orders from Ratchet and Optimus I'm to rest so. . ."

"Don't worry about it," Graham said.

"How can I not?" Hot Rod said. "I was the one responsible. . ."

"And me," Graham said. "But no one's said anything about it."

"Yet," Hot Rod said. "Just give Lennox a chance."

Graham decided it was time to turn the conversation back to something less volatile. The events of the night before were still too fresh in both their memories and neither human nor Autobot was relishing the thought of their mutual reckonings with their commanding officers.

"Speaking of Lennox," Graham said. "Has Ironhide told him about his relationship with Springer?"

"Are you kidding?" Hot Rod said. "I'm getting tired of making up excuses for them."

Graham couldn't fight the grin spreading across his face. "And that's why they insist on using your quarters for their. . .activities?"

"Yes, because Ironhide's afraid he's going to get caught with Springer and then he's going to have to explain," Hot Rod said. "It's not like everyone hasn't figured it out already."

Graham knew his friend was right. Lennox did not know Ironhide was involved with the commander of the Wreckers. Graham knew Epps suspected something in the beginning and had finally figured it out for himself. The Autobots knew and the rest of their human allies in NEST either knew about the relationship or just didn't care. But what kept Ironhide from telling his closest human friend was he didn't know how Lennox would react.

"You think he should just tell him?"

"Don't you?" Hot Rod said. "Look, if I had the time and interest to be involved with anyone, you and Springer would be the first to know. And you know how everyone here loves to gossip, so it would be all over the base in no time."

"Then you're not interested in anyone on base, not in the least?" Graham said. He'd been talking to Jazz lately, who had some interesting things to say about Rodimus' interest in a certain mech.

"Maybe," Hot Rod said.

"Maybe?"

"Yeah, maybe," Hot Rod said. "Doesn't matter anyway."

"So you say," Graham said. "But maybe a relationship would be a good thing. . ."

"I don't see you expressing any interest in any NEST personnel," Hot Rod retorted.

"We have a rule regarding no fraternization," Graham answered. "Unlike you Autobots, who clearly have a different view on the subject."

"You humans and your crazy rules," Hot Rod said. "Unlike you organics, the bonds we Cybertronians form are just one of the reasons why we fight. We Autobots fight to protect those we care about, those who cannot protect themselves."

"Spoken like a true Prime," Graham said.

Hot Rod snorted. Some Prime he was.


	4. Chapter 4

Precipitous

Part 4-Misunderstanding

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"Have you talked to him?"

Optimus Prime's head snapped up, optics locked on the mech who'd managed to sneak into his office despite his size.

"If you're referring to Rodimus, no, I haven't," Optimus said.

"Why?"

"A pair of nasty threats from Ratchet and Red Alert," Optimus said.

"Since when do you heed empty threats from Ratchet?"

"It's not Ratchet I'm afraid of this time," Optimus said.

"The femme? What did she say?" Ironhide asked, interested now.

"I'm not repeating it," Optimus said.

"That bad?"

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Do you have a reason to be here, or are you just making idle conversation?"

"I have a reason, and you know it," Ironhide said. "You're not going to try to talk to Rodimus before we leave?"

"Ironhide, it's late, and he's recovering from injuries," Optimus said.

"If you're not going to talk to him about how his mission went, at least show some decency and go see how he is," Ironhide said.

Optimus sat back, crossed his arms.

"I've received a full report of his injuries and his expected recovery," he said.

"If you don't get off that stubborn aft of yours and go see him, I'll drag you there myself if necessary," Ironhide said. "He's been by himself all day wondering if you're going to punish him for what he considers a failed mission."

"Rodimus' mission was not a failure," Optimus said. "He did quite well, considering the circumstances they were fighting under."

"Then go tell him that," Ironhide said. "And Jazz told me you're planning on making Rodimus his second while we're gone. I'm glad to see you have such confidence in Rodimus' abilities, but again, have you told him this?"

"No," Optimus said.

"Then do it. Now," Ironhide said.

-----

Springer greeted Optimus when he showed up at the door to the quarters he shared with Hot Rod. The triple changer hastily excused himself, knowing business when he saw it.

:I'll be back later: Springer commed Hot Rod. :I'll be with 'Hide if you need me, helping prep for the mission. And I will stop by before the plane leaves:

:You better: Hot Rod said, turning his attention to the other Prime.

"What do you want?"

Optimus sighed. So much for an easy conversation. . .

"I came to see how you are," Optimus said. "And I'm sure by now you know I'm leaving in a few hours, taking a team with Major Lennox to follow up on the new intel we have from Singapore. . ."

"I'm fine, and I know about the mission," Hot Rod said. "So you can leave without lecturing me and now you can go clean up the mess I made."

"Rodimus, that's just it," Optimus said. "You didn't make a mess. Quite the contrary. Octane and Kickback did get away, but their presence and that of your NEST team remained undetected by the general public and you lost no one on your team. I would consider that a success. You did very well."

Hot Rod frowned. "Really?"

"Yes," Optimus said.

"But what about Prowl. . ."

"Graham and Ironhide have both assured me that you and Graham allowed Prowl to make his own decision based upon the data he had," Optimus said. "Rodimus, if I didn't trust your judgment, I would not have allowed you to be put in command of a mission. Also, that is why while I'm gone I'm leaving Jazz in charge and you're backing him up."

-----

Against Ratchet's orders, Optimus had dragged Rodimus from his quarters to his own to go over a few things before leaving for the mission. Threats aside, he had a job to do. Also, Ironhide was right. Rodimus did need a little reassurance. That the usually cocky, hot-tempered young Autobot needed such assurance was a little disconcerting to the Autobot leader. But then again, Rodimus had been thrown to the wolves, as the humans said, when it came to his new position among the Autobots.

At the moment, Rodimus was recharging on his berth, no doubt still exhausted from his own mission and injuries. A little high grade while they were going over the details he needed to impart to Rodimus helped put the young Prime out cold.

For a second, Optimus had the notion that it wouldn't be a bad idea to crawl into that berth next to Rodimus and get some rest himself before leaving. But that was crazy. He knew Rodimus would knock him on his aft if he even tried.

The Autobot leader sighed, knowing his time would be better spent rounding up the members of his team.

-----

0445. Graham knew it was 0445 because he was awake, sparing his alarm clock an occasional glance when his gaze wasn't locked on Maj. William Lennox, his commanding officer, the man in charge of NEST.

". . .and remember, I don't think I have to remind you, but light duty for you only the next few days. Run the drills yourself if you've gotta, but we should be back before then," Lennox said. "Optimus approved my request to keep Skids and Mudflap on the Xantium a few more days, so at least you're spared having to deal with them on top of everything else. Any questions?"

"No sir," Graham said, wishing Lennox would just leave already. He liked and respected his commanding officer, but thoughts of mutiny were running through the soldier's head. For a few seconds. Still, it was a nice thought. Then he snapped himself out of it. What was he thinking? A couple of pain pills and a few more hours rest would help cure that. Hopefully.

"Graham, you all right?" Lennox asked.

"Yes sir."

"Don't 'sir' me," Lennox said. "Look, I'm sorry I woke you up but. . ."

"It's all right," Graham said. "It's our job."

"Still doesn't make it right," Lennox said. "You shouldn't have any trouble with Jazz in charge. We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Safe hunting, sir," Graham said, willing the other soldier to leave.

"Wait--one more thing, before I forget," Lennox said. "I was just over at the Autobot hangar looking for Ironhide and it was the weirdest thing. . .thought I was seeing things, but I caught him coming out of Rodimus' quarters. Are they. . .involved or something? I'd ask, but, you know, it's kinda personal."

No, so you're asking me, Graham thought. "Sir. . ."

"I know, I know. . .I need to ask him myself," Lennox said. "Just make sure we have a base to come back to, will you?"

Graham nodded, fell back on his bed after Lennox was gone, smacking his forehead. At least the other soldier had finally noticed *something* was going on with Ironhide.


	5. Chapter 5

Precipitous

Part 5-Schism

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The sun wasn't even up when the three C-17s carrying Lennox, Prime and the rest of the NEST unit headed to Singapore took off. Jazz watched them until they were out of visual range, turning back toward the Autobot hangar. The Autobot third in command had a lot on his mind this particular morning--like how long he could get away with going back to his quarters for some more recharge before something went wrong, the best way to keep Sunstreaker in line while Prime was gone, and lastly, how to approach the problem of bolstering Rodimus' waning self-assurance.

The two issues would probably keep him from getting anymore recharge if he thought about them enough and running them by Prowl was out of the question. Red Alert would have his head if he tried. Well, maybe not if he dropped by later when Prowl might actually be awake and able to talk for a bit, but Jazz wanted to stop by the med bay anyway to see how he was doing. He knew, had gotten an update on that and much more before Prime left, but he wanted to see for himself.

Jazz finally arrived at the med bay, peeked inside the entrance, looking for Red Alert. She was filling in for Ratchet because he'd been tapped to go along to Singapore. And like her mentor, she had the same habit of sitting with a patient even at the expense of her own well-being.

"I know you're there," Red Alert said, coming from Ratchet's office.

"You must have optics in the back of your head," Jazz said, grinning at the female Autobot.

"No, I just figured you might stop by," she said. "I saw you walk by a while ago when the others were preparing to leave."

"How's Prowler?" Jazz asked.

"Better than he was yesterday morning," Red Alert said.

"How long before he gets out of here?"

"Longer than any of us will want if he tries again what he did a while ago," Red Alert said.

Jazz crossed his arms, looking expectantly at the medic.

She sighed.

"He ripped loose the cables connecting him to the monitoring system, attempting to walk out of here, all the while trying to convince me he was fine and didn't need to stay," Red Alert said. "I told him if he could pick himself up off the floor without assistance, he was welcome to leave. But naturally, he couldn't, so he's still here."

"Remind me not to piss you off," Jazz said.

Red Alert gave him a rare smile.

"Unlike Ratchet, I save my wrath for those truly deserving of it," Red Alert said. "But that doesn't mean I won't greet stupidity with the response it deserves."

"What did you threaten Prowlie with then?" Jazz said.

"He can tell you when he wakes up," Red Alert said.

"Bet he'll love it when I ask," Jazz said. "Before I go, have you checked on Rodi?"

"Recharging in Optimus' quarters," Red Alert said. "He had me check on Hot Rod before he left. He was resting comfortably and his internal repair systems have finished fixing the damage that wasn't severe enough for Perceptor to fix yesterday."

"I'm guessing Prime told you he's assigned Rodi as my backup while he's gone?"

"Yes," Red Alert said. "He needs his processor examined for putting him under so much pressure, but Prime informed me of that also."

"The kid won't break under the pressure," Jazz said. "He hasn't yet, although he might bust Prime."

Red Alert snorted, and Jazz bit back a grin. The femme had picked up many of Ratchet's bad habits.

"Prime deserves what he gets," Red Alert said. "I hate to say it, but it's true, even though it will be left to Ratchet or I to patch him up."

Jazz squeezed her shoulder. "Maybe it won't come to that."

Red Alert raised an optic ridge, exasperated.

"You and your optimism," she said.

Jazz grinned back at her, shrugged.

"Your charm won't work on me," Red Alert said.

"Hasn't worked on Prowler either," Jazz said.

"Jazz, go get some rest," Red Alert said. "I'll comm you when Prowl wakes. And you better send Sideswipe down first thing in the morning so I can make sure he's regained the full range of motion in his shoulder.

"Yes, ma'am," Jazz said.

-----

Optimus knew he should be recharging, but there was too much going through his mind. His human companions were sleeping or talking among themselves, and he knew it was the same on the other two planes, which carried Ironhide, Springer, Jolt and Ratchet. The Autobot leader had chosen firepower over speed this time. He knew it might be overkill considering it was only two Decepticons, but anything could happen, and it was better to be prepared.

And he'd been ignoring Ironhide, who was trying to comm him while he was going over battle plans to occupy his time.

:About time you decided to listen:

:Ironhide, don't you have anything better to do?: Optimus asked.

:Besides bother you? No:

:Have you considered finally having that conversation with Lennox you've been putting off for weeks now?: Optimus said.

:I keep hoping he'll figure it out on his own, save me the trouble: Ironhide said.

:You, my friend, are afraid of one small human?: Optimus asked, his voice tinged with humor.

:Afraid of what he'll think:

:None of the other humans have said anything about your relationship, so why would it bother Lennox?: Optimus asked. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Ironhide, who had yet to voice his doubts about what his human friend would think. Humans could be primitive when it came to what they considered "proper" when it came to relationships, but all of the humans in NEST understood they were dealing with an alien species.

:Because he is my friend and what he thinks does matter to me: Ironhide said.

:Then because he is your friend, you should at least tell him:

:I will: Ironhide said.

:Good: Optimus said.

:When we get back: Ironhide said.

Satisfied, Optimus assumed Ironhide would now leave him alone. But it was not to be.

:Speaking of relationships. . .:

:Ironhide. . .: Optimus warned.

:Hear me out: Ironhide said.

:I don't have time for a relationship. And even if I did, *he* is clearly not interested: Optimus said.

:You're being stubborn. You know there is an attraction there. Sparks fly when you're together: Ironhide said.

:Sparks do not fly. Insults yes, sparks, definitely not: Optimus said.

:You've always been too damn blind and stubborn to see what's right in front of you:

:Ironhide, that's enough: Optimus said, hoping to end the conversation.

:You're both Primes. It makes sense:

The Autobot leader didn't gratify his friend with a response.


	6. Chapter 6

Precipitous

Part 6-Correlate

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Male aggression so early in the day was clearly uncalled for, Arcee reflected. She was in the rec room, taking her mid-day break when Sunstreaker started approached her with his usual arrogance. She listened half-heartedly as the gold twin yammered on about himself (mostly) and somewhere in the middle of the one-sided conversation, Tracks sidled up, trying to catch her attention. At that point, she was almost late returning to duty and by the time the first punch was thrown, she was definitely late, and now felt pity for the two mechs fighting over their own egos when Hot Rod came striding into the room.

The sound of weapons onlining prompted the young Prime to act quickly. And he did. He grabbed Tracks by one shoulder and Sunstreaker by another, smashing their heads together, effectively ending the fight. No longer staring at the two egotistical Autobots now lying in a heap at Hot Rod's feet, Arcee met his gaze, but she didn't get a chance to say anything. Over Hot Rod's shoulder she saw Jazz advancing.

"I hope you have a good reason for what you just did," Jazz said.

Hot Rod sighed, didn't try to explain.

"Help me get these two to the med bay, then you better be ready to talk," Jazz said. "And this day was going so well. . ."

-----

Singapore. One of its many harbour facilities. It was raining again. Ironhide would've sighed, but what was the point? For the second time in less than 48 hours, he was back in the rain. The humans called it monsoon season. Ironhide wondered if one of the levels of the human hell contained a place like Singapore during monsoon season. Not that he couldn't appreciate water as a precious resource, but fighting under such conditions was damn inconvenient.

Annoyance aside, they had found Octane. The triple changer was in his land mode--a truck like Optimus Prime, although unlike Prime, Octane sported a tanker trailer, which made up most of his bulk. The area was quarantined, as usual, but it was going to be tricky keeping the Decepticon on land. Human air support was available, but if they didn't engage Octane on land and keep him their, the situation would get out of control. Ironhide knew this, as did Prime and the rest of their NEST unit.

"Should we get this started?" Lennox said.

"Definitely," Ironhide said, sparing his human friend a glance.

"All right everybody, spread out," Lennox said. "We know where Octane is, but keep your eyes peeled for the second Decepticon."

Humans started to fan out in a circle around the Decepticon's position. Springer, who was with Ironhide, went to take his own place.

"Watch your back," Ironhide said, gaze locked on Springer as he walked by. He watched the younger mech transform, kept his optics on him as he sped away.

Lennox looked at Epps, eyebrow raised. "What was that all about?"

Epps rolled his eyes, sighed. "I'm not tellin' ya'," he said.

"Look, it's not how Ironhide said it--it's that he said it at all," Lennox said. "He's never said that. Not once, to anyone, not even Optimus in the three years I've known him. . ."

Epps and Ironhide shared a sidelong glance despite their difference in height.

"So I take it now isn't a good time to ask?" Lennox said.

"Hardly," Ironhide said, diving in front of Lennox and Epps, unleashing both cannons on Octane as he started to transform.

-----

Jazz sat on his favorite stretch of beach, lounging, watching the stars come out. He was off duty for the moment, having left Rodimus in charge of the watch. Sitting beside the Autobot was Graham. It hadn't taken long that afternoon to sort out what had happened the head-busting incident in the rec room. Sunstreaker was interested in Arcee, Arcee wasn't exactly interested in him and Tracks had stepped in. That had degraded into the fist fight between the two and Rodi's intervention.

It lacked finesse, Jazz reflected, but it worked. And then he'd given the younger Autobot a lecture on protocol that would've made Prowl proud before turning him lose with orders not to leave ops until he came back. Jazz hated being a hardass, but somebody had to keep things together until Optimus got back.

And there had been no word yet from Optimus' team, which meant they were probably optic-deep in a fight. That's what no communication usually meant.

Jazz sighed. He just hoped everyone came back alive.

Graham broke the silence.

"Lennox asked me about Ironhide this morning," he said.

Jazz's head snapped around. "Really? About time," he said. "How'd he take it?"

Graham sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose with his good hand.

"He saw Ironhide leaving Springer and Rodimus' quarters, so he's made the leap of logic that Ironhide is involved with Rodimus," Graham said. "But to answer your question, he didn't seem bothered by it."

"The prospect that Ironhide's involved with another mech instead of a female Autobot?" Jazz asked.

"Yes," Graham said.

"I don't suppose Lennox was aware Rodi was recharging in Prime's quarters this morning," Jazz said.

"No," Graham said.

"Speaking of Rodi," Jazz said. "Did you get around to asking him if he was interested in anyone?"

"He said 'maybe' when I asked," Graham said.

"Better than nothing at all," Jazz said. "C'mon. We better get back, make sure hot shot hasn't put anyone else in the med bay."

-----

The fight was over, but the rain was still falling. Octane was scrap, Jolt was just finishing with Kickback and now they were starting to account for any injuries or missing personnel and get the hell back to the planes. Lennox was trying to herd his men toward the waiting Autobots and NEST Hummers to get everyone out of the quarantine area when he found Ratchet assisting an injured Springer. The human watched with interest as Ironhide dropped what what he was doing, turning his full attention on the other two Autobots.

"When I said create a diversion, I didn't mean. . ." Ironhide started.

"Throwing himself onto the back of a much larger enemy?" Ratchet offered helpfully.

"I'm fine," Springer said.

Lennox noted that the commander of the Wreckers was indeed not fine at all. One optic was burnt out, he couldn't stand on his own and his right arm was ripped off. Springer had created a diversion by transforming into his helicopter mode, flying over Octane before transforming again into his robot mode, dropping directly onto the much larger Decepticon's back.

"Uh guys, I hate to interrupt, but we kind of need to get out of here," Lennox said. "Optimus is already back at the plane."

Ratchet spared the NEST leader a glance, which Ironhide ignored, gaze still locked on Springer, who was trying his best to grin back without wincing in pain.

"At least I can report to Rodimus he won't have to worry about walking in on you two for a while," Ratchet said. "Sorry to put you out of commission, so to speak, Ironhide."

Lennox frowned. "Out of commission? What are you talking about?"

Three sets of Autobot optics locked on the human.

"Will, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. . ." Ironhide said.

At that moment, Epps came pounding up. "C'mon. We've gotta move. The weather's gonna break long enough for us to take off. . ."

But Lennox wasn't listening. He was staring at Ironhide, looking confused.

"Springer and I have been involved for the past three months," Ironhide said. There. It was out. He felt much better.

"Involved? Like relationship involved?" Lennox asked. It was suddenly becoming clear why Ironhide had been sneaking from Rodimus' quarters that morning. Not because of Rodimus.

"As in a relationship," Springer said. "With interfacing."

Epps looked at his friend, and suddenly felt a headache coming on. It was going to be a long flight home.

-----

Hot Rod let himself into Optimus' quarters, settled himself into the berth. It was closer to ops, he was tired and he hoped there would be less chance of Arcee bothering him. It was late, and the Optimus' and Lennox's team would be landing any minute. No one had died and the worst damage was limited to a few broken bones among the humans and Springer's arm. That Springer's injuries weren't life-threatening took some weight off Hot Rod's shoulders. Sworn brothers, they hated being separated from each other for long, even though they both knew duty and responsibility often required it. Satisfied everything, for the moment, was all right, Hot Rod allowed himself to drift offline.

-----

Optimus Prime let himself into his quarters, finally allowing himself to fully favor his left leg. It hurt, but minutes before in the med bay he'd lied to Ratchet just so he could go back to his quarters and get some rest. He could get his leg looked at in a few hours, when it was actually light outside.

As he made his way to his berth, the Autobot leader realized he wasn't alone. There, on the berth, curled on his side, facing the wall, was Rodimus. Optimus sighed. He had offered the use of his quarters to the other Autobot, knew he shouldn't be surprised to see him, thought for a few seconds about waking him up and throwing him out. But interrupting the rest of an Autobot who only a few days before had been where he was now--injured and tired, would be inconsiderate.

Optimus knew he had two choices--risk getting his aft handed to him by the younger Prime for invading his space or head back to the med bay and lose a body part to Ratchet and Red Alert. Pride be damned, Optimus thought. It was his quarters, his berth, and hadn't he been considering 24 hours ago the same thing? Crawling into his berth next to Rodimus? And what would it hurt if he did? Nothing wrong with sharing space, sharing companionship. Wasn't like he wanted to interface with Rodimus. No. Hardly.

Before he could change his mind, Optimus heaved himself down on the berth next to Rodimus, careful not to touch the other Autobot, hoping he wouldn't disturb him. When Rodimus didn't make a sound or move, Optimus stopped worrying, relaxed, let recharge claim him.


	7. Chapter 7

Precpitious

Part 6-Evocation

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Nothing escaped Red Alert's keen optics. The med bay was back in good order, despite the fact the place had two berths currently occupied. Prowl was in recharge on one berth and Ironhide was keeping an eye on Springer, who was the second patient. Ironhide met the medic's optics as she passed by, heading for Ratchet's office.

:Five more minutes, Ironhide. Springer needs rest. So do you. When was the last time you recharged?:

:A few hours before we left yesterday: Ironhide replied.

Red Alert frowned.

Ironhide didn't flinch.

:Save your energy for Hatchet: Ironhide said.

:I was just going to have a talk with our dear CMO. Speaking of stubborn mechs, where is our beloved leader? I know he told Ratchet he was fine. . .: Red Alert said.

Ironhide suppressed a smile.

:When Optimus say's he's fine, he usually isn't: he said.

:He won't be if he doesn't get his aft down here:

:Want me to go check on him?: Ironhide asked.

:It would be appreciated: Red Alert said.

:I'll go now: Ironhide said, nodding at the medic. He squeezed Springer's shoulder, glad the younger mech was going to be fine. And he didn't envy Ratchet one bit for what he knew was coming next. The medic was out cold at his desk after finishing Springer's repairs, and in need of some medical care himself for the hit he'd taken to his shoulder during the battle in Singapore. The weapons specialist smiled to himself, knowing Ratchet was about to get a taste of his own medicine.

-----

The sound of the door chime going off roused Hot Rod from recharge. But he quickly realized he couldn't move himself off the berth if his life depended on it because of the bulk of the other mech who had him pinned firmly in place. Optimus. Was in the berth next to him. Well, not exactly next to him, more like invading his space with his arms wrapped around him, spooned up against him.

Hot Rod didn't take the time to ponder that he should happily settle back into recharge and let whoever it was at the door ring the damn chime until they gave up. Responsibility and reluctance took over instead.

"Optimus," he said.

At the sound of a voice, the Autobot leader was roused from recharge.

"What is it?"

"One of us needs to answer the door," Hot Rod said. "And after I see who it is, I think I'm going to kill them. . ."

Optimus didn't respond right away because he was surprised Hot Rod wasn't talking about inflicting bodily harm on him. Instead, he rolled off the berth, stood, only to have his left leg give out, sending him crashing to the floor. Hot Rod scrambled off the berth himself, going to help his leader up.

At the same time, outside, Ironhide onlined one of of his lesser weapons and fired a shot at the door's access panel, letting himself in.

Hot Rod frowned at the much bigger mech. "Put your weapons away and help me get him up," he said.

"Whatever you say, Rodimus," Ironhide said. His tone was sarcastic but there was mirth in his optics. The two Primes sharing quarters? This was welcome news indeed.

"You're not taking me to the med bay," Optimus said as the two Autobots heaved him off the floor.

"My aft we're not," Hot Rod said. "I don't need another lecture from Ratchet, or worse."

"You'll get more than a lecture from me if you continue with this plan of action," Optimus said. "I'm fine. I'm only tired and my auto repair systems will take care of the damage."

"More than a lecture? I'd like to see you try. A lecture's about all you can handle right now," Ironhide said. "Besides. You should be proud Rodimus here is doing what he should instead of having to be told to do it."

:Ironhide, would you shut up?: Hot Rod commed.

Ironhide ignored the younger mech because they were at the med bay, but he didn't lay off Optimus.

"Stubborn. . .I think it's the hallmark of a Prime to be stubborn. Must be a requirement because when I hear the word 'Prime,' it's the first thing I think of. Can't imagine why, what with two living examples right here beside me. . ." Ironhide said.

"Rodimus, Ironhide's just lucky I don't have two good legs to stand on right now," Optimus said. "Because if I did. . ."

"You'd what, shoot me?" Ironhide said. "Like to see you try. And I don't think the sparkling here would try even if you ordered him. Would you?"

"I'll shoot you if you don't help me unload our dear fearless leader," Hot Rod said.

Ironhide couldn't control his laughter as he helped the young Prime unburden himself of Optimus as they deposited him on an empty surgical berth, leaving him to Red Alert.

-----

2240. Hot Rod would've been willing to trade anything to be back where he'd been almost 18 hours before--recharging next to Optimus, but he couldn't go back because there was only moving forward. A long day that should have been over hours before was just winding down. He was headed back to his quarters now after leaving Prowl's office, where he'd just spent the past hour and a half with Jazz going over the details about a prank gone wrong involving Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and misappropriated parts and chemicals from Perceptor's lab.

The discipline was meted out and Hot Rod was going to lock himself in his quarters and try to get some rest. He knew exactly how much recharge he'd had since before and after his mission to Singapore, and the less Ratchet knew, the better. Not that Ratchet was in any position to do anything about it at the moment because he was off duty until morning because of his injuries.

Damn. The med bay. Hot Rod knew he should take the time to run by and see Springer but it was late and he would be risking a lecture about his own well-being and disturbing patients if he did. He'd received a status report on all the med bay occupants--Springer was due to be released from the med bay in the morning, as was Optimus. Ratchet was resting in his own quarters and Prowl was doing much better than expected.

Hot Rod debated detouring back to the med bay, but decided against it. If anything changed, either Red Alert or Jazz would let him know. Satisfied with his decision, he let himself into his quarters, sitting down on his berth, alone for the first time all day.

He sighed. The burden of leadership was a heavy one, something he could do without, but fate had dealt its hand and there was no escaping it. He was a Prime, and nothing would change that. Hot Rod let himself go back to that day--the day the Xantium arrived at Earth and everything changed.

He remembered the day well, but Hot Rod figured it was something he would never forget. After months aboard the Xantium on their long journey to Earth, most of the crew was relieved to make planetfall, and he'd been no exception. Springer had chosen him, Red Alert, Roadbuster and Sandstorm to actually go down to the planet surface. And Springer, wanting to make a lasting impression on the humans, opted to use the ship's teleportation system for an orbital jump down to the surface.

To say Optimus Prime was annoyed when they showed up unannounced was an understatement. The Autobot leader expected them to come down to Earth the way the rest of the Cybertronians on Earth had--in cometary form. The five Wreckers had ended up with an armed group of humans and Autobots surrounding them within seconds of their arrival. Hot Rod smiled at that memory because Ironhide had been the first to zero in on Springer, had been glad to see his old student. After realizing it wasn't a bunch of Decepticons, Ironhide had cuffed Optimus Prime in the back of the head, stomped over to Springer and the rest of them, effectively ending the standoff.

And what came next. . .Hot Rod's own introduction to Optimus Prime. He'd never met the leader of his people in person before. Not during his training under Ironhide then Kup or the duration of the war on Cybertron. Only from a distance had Hot Rod ever seen Optimus Prime, but he'd heard plenty about him from everyone he served with. He knew his own disrespect for authority should have lead him to more than one disciplinary hearing with the Prime, but somehow, Ultra Magnus always managed to head things off before they went that far.

Up close, Optimus Prime was an impressive, imposing figure, yet instead of intimidating, he exuded a sense of calm, peacefulness and quiet strength. And he wasn't an unattractive mech, either, Hot Rod noticed as Springer talked with Prime. And then, suddenly, it was his turn to be introduced.

". . .and this is Hot Rod, my second in command. . ."

Bright blue optics met his, Hot Rod accepted the offered hand in greeting. . .and then. . .electricity. . .a jolt of familiarity and something more arcing from the other mech to himself. Optics boring into him with such ferocity he almost backed away. But he steeled himself. He never backed down from a challenge. Ever.

Still holding onto his right hand, Optimus' left reached for his helm, and he did make to pull away this time.

"No. . .don't. . ." Optimus said, beseeching.

Hot Rod felt the gentle touch of fingers brushing over the brand on the side of his helm, then Optimus placed both hands on his shoulders. Hot Rod glanced from the Autobot leader to Springer, who was watching, optic ridge arched, clearly wondering what the hell was going on.

"Do you realize what this mark means, what you just felt?" Optimus asked.

"N. . .no," Hot Rod said.

"You are a Prime," Optimus said. "Like me."

And then everything that followed. . .explanations, demands, the changing of his name. Considering all that had happened, Hot Rod knew it should have been a small thing, but it had been the last straw, as the humans said. Others might have taken to calling him by the new designation, but he still thought of himself as Hot Rod, because to consider himself anything other than who he was would drive him mad.


	8. Chapter 8

Precipitous

Part 8-Mishap

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The morning teleconference with Morshower over, Optimus Prime suddenly found himself with a few hours to himself. Except at the moment, he was watching Maj. William Lennox sprint outside after Ironhide. He knew he shouldn't pry, but he'd been looking forward to this conversation for quite some time, so the Autobot leader excused himself from the hangar. He watched with amusement as Epps and Graham shared a glance.

"Record that, will you?" Epps asked.

Optimus nodded down at his human friends, then strode from the hangar, stopping just short of Ironhide's side.

". . .like I don't know what interfacing is. I've heard the scientific description from Ratchet," Lennox said. "Believe me, 'Hide, I did not need to know that part. Why the hell did Springer have to say that? Which, by the way, nice choice there."

"Then you are not troubled by the fact I'm involved with another mech, and not one of the female Autobots?" Ironhide asked.

"Who you choose to be with is your business," Lennox said. "You know what I mean. . .I want to know. You're my friend, and I'm happy for you, but why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because Ironhide was afraid of how you might react," Optimus offered.

Ironhide shot his leader a withering glance.

"Whatever," Lennox said. "You're a bunch of alien robots. As far as I know, anything goes, and apparently, it does. 'Hide, I don't need to know the intimate details of your relationship any more than you want to hear about mine."

"Agreed," Ironhide said.

"Get out of here. I have work to do," Lennox said, grinning up at his friend.

"That went well," Ironhide said, watching Will walk away. "Better than I could have hoped."

"You underestimate their ability to adapt," Optimus said.

"No, I was just imagining the worst," Ironhide said. "By the way, the next time I need backup explaining anything involving my personal relationships, I will ask you."

"I was only offering support if it was needed," Optimus said, trying not to look sheepish. "Over the years I have become well acquainted with your ability to articulate your feelings."

"I don't need help expressing my feelings," Ironhide said.

"No, they usually manifest in the form of weapons fire," Optimus said.

"At least I can express what I'm feeling rather than keeping it bottled up inside," Ironhide said. "And I've found someone who can appreciate how I. . .articulate. Which is more than I can say for you."

"I don't keep my feelings bottled up," Optimus said. "And the complication of an intimate relationship is something I do not need right now."

"My aft," Ironhide said. "We all need someone to at least talk to. And you've been talking less and less these past few months. What's bothering you?"

"At the moment, you," Optimus said.

"It's my job," Ironhide said.

Optimus crossed his arms, giving Ironhide a sidelong glance.

"Last time I checked, your job description was Autobot weapon specialist," Optimus said.

"And I have another question," Ironhide said. "Humor me. I know you're not going to like the question, but how long have you been celibate?"

Optimus' optics narrowed in annoyance.

"None of your business," he said.

"It is my business," Ironhide said. "And I hope I was interrupting something between you and Rodimus yesterday morning when I came to your quarters to check on you."

"All you interrupted was my recharge," Optimus said.

"That's all?"

"That's all," Optimus said.

"And you're not going to tell me what Rodimus was doing there?" Ironhide asked. He'd heard from Springer that Optimus had offered Rodimus the use of his quarters when he wasn't there, but he was hoping maybe something had changed.

"Again, it's nothing," Optimus said.

"If you say so," Ironhide muttered. "I have to go. I have weapons practice with the twins and Perceptor. Go get some rest. I know you have orders to take it easy today, so for once, do as the medics say. But I want you to consider this--you know how hard you've been riding Rodimus from the beginning? Did it ever occur to you that you could have been helping each other through this whole Prime thing instead of alienating him? What would Kup think?"

-----

The Xantium

Hot Rod was glad to be back on the Xantium. It meant not having to put up with the pressures of his new-found position because his fellow Wrecker's didn't give a damn. As long as he continued to pull his weight and watch their backs, they didn't care. And at the moment, he was taking care of a matter no one else wanted. Just another perk of being Prime, he reflected. He was looking for Skids and Mudflap who had escaped from the ship's brig and were now running loose somewhere on the Xantium, wreaking havoc and pissing off her crew. Unfortunately for the twins, they had yet to learn that an angry Wrecker was a deadly wrecker and that almost always meant shooting to kill. Except not in this case. He had orders to not harm them. Much.

:I know you're there. Come out or else:

:Or else what you punk-ass mutha. . .:

Hot Rod heard the sound of metal crashing against metal, flinched when Skids and Mudflap came rolling out of the supply closet where they'd been hiding, landing at his feet. The twins were beating each other senseless. That wasn't new, but whatever they'd done to piss off Roadbuster, Hot Rod intended to beat out of them if they didn't stop pounding on each other.

"Stop!" he yelled, hoping he wouldn't have to step in. He counted to 10, reached down, ripping them apart.

"Hey yo what's the idea. . ."

"I'm going to give you to the count of three to explain what you've done now," Hot Rod said. "If you don't, I hope all your earthly affairs are in order."

The twins exchanged a glance.

"One. . .

Skids ran a scan to make sure there was no internal damage from his scuffle with his twin.

"Two. . ."

Mudflap was wondering how much more high grade they could steal from Springer's not-so-hidden stash.

"Three."

Hot Rod onlined his weapons as the twins sprinted off in opposite directions. If he caught them, they were dead.

-----

Ironhide leaned against the hangar door, arms crossed, watching the goings on with interest. He wasn't the only one. Epps and Graham stood beside him, flinching as they listened to the exchange between Optimus Prime, Lennox and Morshower.

"What do you mean--they got away? You can destroy Decepticons twice your size but you can't keep control of two tiny Autobots?" Morshower asked. Lennox glanced up at Hot Rod, who was standing at attention by Optimus Prime.

"Would you mind explaining to the general exactly what happened?"

Hot Rod didn't move.

:You will explain because I am not doing it for you:

Hot Rod's head snapped around, and he glared at Optimus, bit back a retort. Couldn't act subordinate in front of the humans, especially now that he was a Prime.

"After escaping the brig, Skids and Mudflap incapacitated Topspin and Twin Twist, injured Whirl, while making their way to the shuttle bay. Once there, they managed to open the bay doors, detonate one of the shuttles using its auto destruct sequence, using the ensuing explosion to escape from the Xantium using their cometary forms," Hot Rod said.

"Optimus, I expect you'll be sending a team to retrieve them once they come back down to Earth?" Morshower asked.

"Yes," he answered.

"Keep me apprised of the situation," Morshower said, cutting the transmission.

Lennox sighed, sparing Hot Rod a glance as he passed by, walking outside. Epps and Lennox fell in beside him.

"I don't envy Rodimus one bit," Lennox said.

"It was an accident," Graham said. "The twins have always been. . .less than agreeable."

"Yeah," Epps said. "They do cause a lot of trouble no matter what they're doing."

"I know you're right, but it still doesn't change the fact they're AWOL, nearly destroyed the shuttle bay on the Xantium and now we have to go clean up any mess they make," Lennox said, trying to end the conversation.

He understood their sympathy for Rodimus--Epps got along with him, Graham was probably his closest friend among the human NEST personnel but when it came down to being able to depend on him, Lennox wasn't so sure he could.


	9. Chapter 9

Precipitous

Part 9-Raid

Avoiding Optimus, Hot Rod decided, was his best course of action, so he contented himself with sitting on his favorite stretch of beach, contemplating the fate he'd been dealt. Prime or no Prime, he felt lost. He was an equal, yet he wasn't treated like it all the time, nor was he able to go back to being what he was--a warrior in the Autobot ranks, second in command of the Wreckers. Springer had reassured him that no matter what, he would always have a place with the Wreckers. Hot Rod knew that--the Wreckers were his family. A dysfunctional, trigger-happy deadly family, but family nonetheless.

The problem was where he stood with the other Autobots, Optimus, and more importantly, himself. His confidence in himself and his abilities had been badly shaken in the months since his arrival to Earth. He'd proven time and again he could lead a combat unit, worked better on his own, but how was he supposed to deal with the prospect of taking over the leadership of the Autobots if something happened to Optimus Prime?

And how was he supposed to do his job, whatever that was, with the other Prime constantly looking over his shoulder? Optimus had explained over and over again the duties of a Prime, yet had never completely laid out his expectations for Hot Rod beyond taking over leadership if something happened to him. He knew he needed to sit down and have a long discussion with Optimus but something always came up.

Then there was the matter of his attraction to the other Autobot. Half the time Hot Rod couldn't decide if he wanted to punch Optimus or shove him against the wall and have his way with him. Unfortunately, they mixed like oil and water, as the humans said. He was rash, hot-tempered, cocky, all things that did not sit well with the older, much more patient mech.

His reverie was interrupted by someone trying to comm him.

:Rodi, better get your aft back. Got things to discuss: Jazz said.

Frag, Hot Rod thought, transforming, speeding back to base.

-----

Hot Rod found Jazz with Optimus in ops.

"We've found them," Optimus said.

Hot Rod held back a sigh. He didn't need to be told who the "them" was. Skids and Mudflap.

"Where are they?" he asked.

"Colorado," Jazz said.

"Colorado? What possessed them do come down there?"

:Stupidity?: Jazz offered silently.

Optimus ignored the question, choosing instead to discuss just how they were going to bring the errant twins back to the fold.

"We leave in one hour," Optimus said. "Jazz, you're in charge, Springer will back you up if needed. Rodimus, you're coming with me, as are Ironhide and Ratchet."

Optimus started to walk out of the hangar, stopped when he saw Rodimus still standing by Jazz.

"Are you coming or not?" he asked.

Hot Rod nodded, giving Jazz one last look before he left.

:Have fun: Jazz offered.

:This is going to be anything *but* fun:

He followed Optimus out, hoping for the best.

-----

Being tied down in his vehicular form in a small, moving space made Hot Rod nervous. He wasn't claustrophobic, but with Optimus Prime only a few feet away, similarly strapped down, and surrounded by humans, Hot Rod couldn't relax. The C-17's cargo area wasn't small, but to Hot Rod, who was used to the Xantium, the human transport felt small, especially with Optimus' bulk taking up most of the space.

Most of the humans were resting, including Epps, who was listening to his Ipod and Lennox, who was sitting, arms crossed, head leaned back, asleep.

Hot Rod wished he could enjoy a similar state, but being tied down, even for safety purposes, was almost more than he could take. That, along with the lack of suitable conversation was driving him crazy. He wondered why they just didn't use the Xantium for an orbital bounce, but it would have meant leaving the human NEST members behind. Orbital jumps and bounces posed a tiny problem for humans--death.

Luckily, they would be landing within the hour, and he would be free of his bindings and out on the open road. That thought alone calmed him.

-----

Peterson Air Force Base, Colorado Springs

Lennox watched as Ratchet and Ironhide disembarked from their plane, then turned his attention to the other C-17, where Hot Rod was rolling down the ramp.

"I hope he remembers speed limits," Lennox said, watching as the young Prime, disguised as a dark red Dodge Challenger with black racing stripes, went by.

"With Optimus along, I don't think we have to worry about that," Epps said. "I'm more worried about dumb and dumber causing collateral damage."

Lennox shot his friend a look.

"Don't remind me," he said. "This is crazy. I can't believe we're hunting a couple of Autobots."

"Believe it," Epps said. "This should earn those two an even longer stint behind bars."

-----

A dirt road, twisting between the ancient red rocks the humans called a "garden" was a good place to hide. Mudflap had to admit for once, Skids had actually done something right. The place was pretty and quiet. Not that the two ever paid attention to such things, but there were moments, like now. And hopefully, it would be a while before the other Autobots caught up with them. The stunt they'd pulled on the Xantium had succeeded more out of luck than skill. Ironhide's training had paid off, though. Months before, they never would have been able to fight of Twin Twist and Topspin like they had.

:Yo, Mudflap, what ya thinkin'?: Skids asked.

:Nothin' leave me alone: Mudflap answered.

:Think they're onto us?:

:We blew up a shuttle. What you think?:

:Oh yeah. Was fun though, wasn't it?:

:Blowin' up stuff is always fun now leave me alone:

Getting the point, for once, Skids left his brother to his thoughts.

-----

:Remember, do not engage unless absolutely necessary. Use non-lethal methods if possible: Optimus said.

Hot Rod revved his engine in answer, riding up on Optimus' tail as he followed his leader, turning off the four-lane road onto the smaller, two-lane leading to the spot where the local NEST unit had tracked Skids and Mudflap.

:Back off: Optimus said, hitting his brakes, sending Hot Rod speeding at him.

At the last second, Hot Rod pulled around, shooting past Optimus.

:If I find 'em, you'll be the first to know: Hot Rod said, glad to be away.

Ironhide, with Epps and Lennox riding along with him, pulled up alongside Optimus.

:Enthusiastic, isn't he?: Ironhide asked.

:He's reckless and I don't think Ratchet would appreciate having to repair damage to us both caused by Rodimus' 'enthusiasm' as you put it: Optimus said.

:Then why did you bring him along if all you're going to do is complain about his methods?:

:I brought him along in hopes he would be willing to observe and learn. Clearly that is not the case: Optimus said.

:No, it's not. And he's the best suited to catch Skids and Mudflap because if you haven't noticed, he's the only one of us with a form built for speed and maneuverability: Ironhide said.

:His form is built for breaking the law: Optimus replied.

:Which can be enjoyable, once in a while, like speeding. When was the last time you. . .:

:Ironhide, we have a mission to complete, not spend our time discussing ways to bring down local law enforcement on our heads: Optimus said.

:At least you've noticed his form: Ironhide said. :And the color--that red, does suit his temperament and personality. Very attractive, if you're into that sort of thing:

:That color is the most likely to get noticed by law enforcement: Optimus said.

:And like yours isn't?:

Optimus didn't get to respond because ahead, he heard the distinct sound of weapons fire.

-----

"Yo punkass, wanna finish what we started up on the Xant'um the other day?" Mudflap yelled at Hot Rod, firing a shot, which the bigger mech avoided by rolling out of the way. As he rolled to a crouch, Skids, living up to his name, skidded to a halt in front of Hot Rod, turned, started to run away. But Hot Rod was quicker. He lunged, grabbing the smaller Autobot by the leg, hanging him upside down as he stood. As he did, he pointed his primary weapon at Skids' head.

"Power down your weapons or it's bye-bye twins," Hot Rod said, onlining the cannon.

"I can kick your ass," Mudflap said. "Wanta piece of me?"

"How many pieces would you like?"

Mudflap didn't turn around. Hearing that voice, the sound of those familiar footsteps and particular weapons, now both pointed at his small head made him put up his hands in surrender.

"Nice to know all my training hasn't been in vain," Ironhide said.

-----

No human casualties, Skids and Mudflap were secured in one of the planes with their weapons offlined and vocalizers turned off, yet Optimus Prime still had reason to be annoyed. Very annoyed.

"Did he have to destroy the rock?" Lennox asked. "Was it really necessary? I mean really. . .c'mon Optimus. . .how are we gonna explain that one? It just fell over on its own? It was cemented in place."

Unable to move because he was being secured in place, Optimus sighed.

"We will come up with a solution," he said. "Even if I have to send Perceptor to fix the problem."

"Well that's not gonna satisfy Morshower. How the hell am I gonna explain a natural wonder was destroyed? That damn balanced rock has been a tourist attraction forever," Lennox said.

"Perhaps an earthquake knocked over the rock?" Optimus offered, trying to placate his agitated friend. A quick search of the Internet turned up information that the southern Rocky Mountains did experience seismic activity once in a while.

"That might work," Lennox said, leaving Optimus alone.

-----


	10. Chapter 10

Precipitous

Part 10-Declaration

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod walked down the corridor to his quarters, hoping he could make it without any interruptions, like Arcee. Or at the moment, the big green mountain of metal coming his way.

"I hear you rearranged some of the geology out there," Springer said.

"I had help," Hot Rod said, shouldering past Springer's bigger bulk.

"Yeah, I know," Springer said, keeping pace with Hot Rod. "What is Prime gonna do with dumb and dumber?"

"Keep them here and turn them over to Ironhide," Hot Rod said.

"I wonder if he'll let me help?" Springer said, suddenly grinning.

"If it involves those two and a live fire exercise, count me in," Hot Rod said. "But for now, I'd settle for some recharge."

"Didn't rest on the flight?" Springer asked.

"Hardly," Hot Rod said.

"Why not? A long flight is a good way to catch up on recharge," Springer said.

Hot Rod frowned up at his friend.

"For you maybe, but I had to listen to Lennox talk about how much trouble we're in for knocking down a rock, and once he fell asleep, Optimus started in on me," Hot Rod said.

"Not a good trip home then," Springer said. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. Think I'm gonna go see Ironhide."

Springer clapped him on the shoulder, started in the direction of Ironhide's quarters. Hot Rod watched him go. At least someone was happy.

-----

Hot Rod ignored his internal comm exactly 15 minutes before the door to his quarters chimed. He rolled off the berth, walked over, hit the door release. In walked Optimus Prime.

"I've been trying to. . ."

"I know you've been trying to reach me. What do you want?" Hot Rod asked.

"You should have been at the morning teleconference," Optimus said.

"Seems to me you always do just fine on your own," Hot Rod snapped. "You woke me up just to tell me that?"

"I'm in no mood this morning for your insolence," Optimus said. "Why can't you just. . ."

Hot Rod frowned.

"What, be more like you?" he asked.

"That's not what I was going to say," Optimus said.

"But you were thinking it, weren't you?" Hot Rod said.

"I would never presume. . ." Optimus said.

"Stow it," Hot Rod said. "I don't want an apology."

"Then what do you want?" Optimus said.

"A few hours of uninterrupted recharge would be nice for a change," Hot Rod said. "But even that's been impossible the past few months."

Optimus sighed.

"The offer to use my quarters still stands," he said.

"Doesn't make a difference," Hot Rod said. "There's always an interruption of some kind, something needing the attention of a Prime."

"Welcome to my world," Optimus said, giving Hot Rod a wry smile.

Some of the fight went out of Rodimus, Optimus noticed.

"How do you deal with it?" Hot Rod asked, sitting down on the edge of his berth. Optimus joined him.

"By never forgetting that others depend on me, look to me for guidance, that I must set the best example I possibly can," Optimus said.

"That's not an answer," Hot Rod said. "Because you're not perfect. No one is."

"How well I know," Optimus said. "Truthfully, I seek out the company of those I care for most, like Ironhide, or Ratchet or Jazz. Or I take solace in the rare moments I have to myself."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Hot Rod asked.

"No, it wasn't," Optimus said, placing a hand on Hot Rod's shoulder.

Hot Rod flinched, pulling away.

"What is it?" Optimus said.

"Sore is all," Hot Rod said. "Skids got in a lucky shot or two last night, and I decided I'd wait to have Ratchet take a look."

"That wasn't very wise," Optimus said. "May I have a look?"

Hot Rod nodded, tried to not pull away as gentle hands probed at his injured shoulder.

"Relax," Optimus said. "Being tense is only going to make it worse, but it doesn't appear the damage is severe."

Hot Rod didn't get a chance to say more as Optimus' hands moved from his shoulder to his back, rubbing his back struts, deft fingers caressing seams in his armor. The younger Prime was suddenly very aware of how close he was to initiating very inappropriate behavior with the Autobot leader.

"I think you should go," Hot Rod finally managed. "I'm sure you have things you need to do, and I need to get my shoulder looked at. . ."

Optimus stopped.

"I only thought to offer a measure of comfort and companionship," Optimus said. "You have been tense lately, and I apologize for 'riding you so hard,' as Ironhide put it. I thought you might be open to. . ."

"To what?" Hot Rod asked.

"Ironhide has been rather insistent that you've shown an interest. . .but I believe he was mistaken," Optimus said. "And for that, I also apologize."

"Don't," Hot Rod said. "Don't apologize. Because Ironhide isn't wrong."

-----


	11. Chapter 11

Precipitous

Part 11-Detach

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The sound of a human clearing their throat interrupted the conversation. Graham suddenly found himself under the scrutiny of two Primes, one looking relieved at the disruption of their discussion, the other unreadable. The soldier made note of the fact Optimus' hands were on Rodimus, and they were sitting on the berth. He was curious, but he acted like he didn't notice. That's what they got for leaving the door open.

"Rodimus, Prowl would like to see you," Graham said. "And he said to ignore Ratchet's threats when you arrive in the med bay."

Hot Rod resisted the urge to sigh. Instead, he stood, nodded to Optimus.

"We'll finish this later," Optimus said, watching the younger Autobot follow the human.

"What does Prowl want?" Hot Rod asked.

Graham shrugged.

"He didn't say," he said, choosing instead to see if he could find out why Rodimus actually managed to talk with Optimus without coming to blows. "So, what were you and Optimus discussing?"

Graham knew it really wasn't any of his business, but Rodimus was his friend, so technically. . .

"He was just seeing how I was. Skids managed to shoot me before I cornered them yesterday," Hot Rod said.

"Ratchet's not going to be happy you've avoided seeing him," Graham said.

"I know," Hot Rod said. "So can we get this over as quickly as possible?"

-----

"As quickly as possible" didn't happen. With nothing better to do than bear Ratchet's tirade with his friend, Graham timed it. Fifteen minutes, 32 seconds of Ratchet ripping Rodimus and his intelligence, Optimus for not dragging him straight to the med bay when they got back the night before and then the rant turned to him. Graham bore it stoically at attention, although he had to resist the urge to twitch because Ratchet managed to get personal. Then the medic turned his ire toward Prowl for trying to conduct his duties while still confined to the med bay. Prowl just took it, arms crossed, glaring back at Ratchet. And then it was over when the medic grabbed Rodimus, shoved him toward a berth to fix his shoulder.

Graham took advantage of the situation to talk with Prowl, with the occasional dirty look from Rodimus, who had every reason to be annoyed with Ratchet and the second in command. Supplies were needed for the med bay and Perceptor was asking for more materials for his lab. Materials of a nature unsuitable for storage near humans. Volatile chemicals and weapons grade materials best left on board the Xantium and Ark.

"Perceptor knows better," Hot Rod said, walking out of the med bay with Graham. "I'm not even going to think about running this by Optimus. . ."

"But you have to," Graham said. "It's your job."

"Because I'm a Prime? If I'm a Prime, then I should just be able to tell Perceptor no, and that's that."

"But. . ."

"I know," Hot Rod said. "I have to. I might not have all the data I need to make an informed decision. Therefore I have to discuss Perceptor's request with Optimus."

"What about Ratchet's request?" Graham asked.

"It's mostly just stuff he's asked for before--metals for fabricating parts to help with repairs, barrels of crude oil that can be refined for medical-grade energon," Hot Rod said. "No problems there."

"Good," Graham said. "I have a copy of the list, so I'll start seeing what I can do about getting Ratchet what he needs."

"OK," Hot Rod said. "And I'll run Perceptor's list by Optimus and go from there."

-----

Early evening. Many of the base's personnel were going off duty for the night, or beginning their shift. But for some, like Optimus Prime, the day wasn't over yet, and it looked like the hard part was just beginning. The latest supply request was easy--finishing his discussion with Rodimus from that morning was proving difficult, at least knowing where to start.

Rodimus was tapping his data pad on his knee, annoyed, clearly wishing he was elsewhere, but Optimus wasn't going to let go, not when they needed to talk.

"I know you'd like to leave, but we have matters to discuss," Optimus said, finally breaking the silence. "We need to talk about. . ."

"This morning," Hot Rod said. "I know."

He sat back, resigning himself to the situation.

"How long. . .how long have you been. . .interested, as Ironhide put it?" Optimus asked.

Hot Rod sighed. Might as well answer the question.

"Since we got here," he said.

"So Ironhide hasn't been wrong," Optimus said.

No, you've just been very blind and slow on the uptake, Hot Rod thought.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice before now," Optimus said.

"Don't be," Hot Rod said. "It's not like we both haven't had other stuff to deal with."

"That, my friend, is an understatement," Optimus said, relaxing a bit. Maybe this wouldn't be as hard as he thought.

"But the question is now that it's out in the open, what do we do about it?" Hot Rod said.

Or not, Optimus thought. Before he could answer, Rodimus started to speak.

"We could do nothing," Hot Rod said. "Or we could. . .try to make a relationship work. But we both have our duties and responsibilities and you and I both know the relationship we've had up to now hasn't been easy. Why complicate an already difficult situation?"

Optimus noticed Rodimus didn't meet his optics as he talked, but he said nothing.

"You're sure this is what you want?" Optimus asked.

"Yes," Hot Rod said, meeting his optics.


	12. Chapter 12

Precipitous

Part 12-Dogged

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"So what is it you're not tellin' me?" Jazz said.

Graham didn't look up at the Autobot sitting beside him.

"I don't gossip," he said.

"It ain't gossip," Jazz said. "Think of it as. . .sharing intelligence that benefits the health and well-being of everyone on base. Especially a couple of Primes. 'Sides, I don't hear it straight from you, whatever it is, I'll have to sort through rumors. There's already plenty of those runnin' around. So talk."

Graham sighed, knowing Jazz was right. And he didn't have to mention names because Jazz already had him figured out. Was he really that easy to read? Damn.

"I caught them talking this morning," Graham said.

"Talking," Jazz said. "Talking? Not Rodimus tryin' to rip Optimus apart?"

"No," Graham said. "Talking. I had the impression I was interrupting something. . .personal."

"Figures," Jazz said. "But this is good, maybe. Means they might finally be working things out."

-----

Optimus was enjoying a rare evening to himself. He'd finally decided to shove aside his work and give himself a few hours to do whatever he pleased. He could, as Prime, but he was never given to self-indulgence, but at the moment, he needed to do something that had nothing to do with strategy, personnel issues, or worrying. It was all there in the back of his mind, but he wasn't thinking about it. Trying, at least. Instead, the Autobot leader was trying to make sense out of Perceptor's revision of Einstein's theory of relativity.

His background as a scientist gave him a basic understanding of physics, but his specialty before becoming Autobot leader had been archaeology. Not that Perceptor's theories weren't interesting reading, but they made his head hurt. And thankfully, someone was at his door. Optimus set down his data pad, opened the door to find Ironhide staring back at him.

"Took you long enough," Ironhide said.

"I was just going over Perceptor's latest. . ."

"Spare me the scientific drivel," Ironhide said, walking inside his friend's quarters. "Have you finally set things right with Rodimus?"

Optimus raised an optic ridge.

"What gives you that idea?" he asked.

"I know you spent a lot of time in your office earlier this evening talking with Rodimus," Ironhide said. "The two of you carrying on an actual conversation as opposed to your usual confrontations is unusual enough to get noticed. Unless you two were doing something besides talking."

Optimus crossed his arms, frowning.

"We did nothing but talk," he said. "And for your information, I did broach the subject of Rodimus' interest in me. You were correct in your assumption. Are you happy?"

"It was never an assumption," Ironhide said. "Sparks fly when you two are together. I've told you that before. And now that you know, what do you intend to do about Rodimus' 'interest?'"

"We agreed it would be a complication neither of us needs right now," Optimus said. "Our relationship as it stands is difficult at best, and such an entanglement would only exacerbate the matter."

"Is that how you see a relationship--an entanglement?" Ironhide asked.

"Where Rodimus is concerned, yes," Optimus said.

Ironhide crossed his arms, at a loss for words.

-----

The med bay was Hot Rod's last stop for the evening. Another confrontation with Ratchet wouldn't happen because Ratchet was in charge of the night watch in ops. Given the fact Hot Rod needed to have a serious conversation with Red Alert, circumstances were working out for the best. He knew she'd be angry when she heard what he had to say, but he was just the messenger. It was another result of his long conversation earlier that evening with Optimus. But at least this he could deal with. That was why Optimus chose him to talk with Red and no one else.

"When was the last time you recharged?"

Red Alert whipped around, wrench in hand.

"I could ask you the same question," she said, putting down the tool. "And come inside the office. I don't want you waking Prowl up."

Hot Rod followed her inside Ratchet's office, threw himself down in a chair.

She didn't ask what he was doing there. The medic knew him well enough to just let him work things out of his system in his own time.

"How's Prowl?" Hot Rod asked.

"Better," Red Alert said. "

"If Prowl's doing fine, why are you hiding here with him instead of doing something else?" Hot Rod said.

"Because I'd rather be here than anywhere else on base," she said.

"Even the Xantium?" Hot Rod said.

"I'd rather be there," Red Alert said. "And why do you ask?"

No point in holding back his

"Optimus wants you to stay," Hot Rod said. "He's talked to Springer about it, and he agrees. You're doing more good here than being locked up on the Xantium with the rest of the Wreckers."

"Is that why you're here?" Red Alert said. "And what does Ratchet think of this?"

"Yes," Hot Rod said. "They thought it would be better coming from someone you actually like."

"Since when do you think I like you?" Red Alert said.

Hot Rod snorted. She'd always been able to cut through the bullshit. She kept him honest.

"You're still the same arrogant, disrespectful, hot-tempered pain in the aft you've always been," Red Alert said. "The only thing that's changed is the way you perceive yourself, they way others perceive you. That's all."

"That's all?" Hot Rod said.

"You never used to be one to let what others thought affect you," Red Alert said. "What's changed?"

Hot Rod stood to leave.

"Everything," he said. "Think about Optimus' request. It's not an order. And if it matters, Ratchet was the one who approached Optimus. Red, like I said, just think about it. You have a chance to make a real difference again, do more than fight, maybe settle down, start a family. That's what you've always wanted, isn't it?"

For a second, Hot Rod thought he wasn't going to leave the med bay alive. The look in her optics was dangerous, the one reserved for Decepticons or particularly fractious patients.

"I wanted that a long time ago," she said. "Like you said, everything's changed. Rodimus, go. You've said enough. I will consider Prime's request, but I'll need time."

Hot Rod reached out, squeezing her shoulder. The medic nodded at the younger mech, watched him go.

-----

The beach was quiet, save for the crashing of waves on the shore. Earth's now-familiar constellations blazed overhead. Romantic, Ironhide thought, if one were human. Luckily, he was neither human or prone to romanticism, but at the moment, he was content, barring wanting to knock some sense into his beloved leader and best friend. Wouldn't do any good, he reflected. In his experience, Primes had hard heads. They wouldn't listen to reason either when it came to advice pertaining to their personal lives. Maybe if he got Skids and Mudflap to spell it out in crayon Optimus would figure things out?

During his brief visit with Optimus earlier that night Ironhide had told him he'd lay off about Rodimus. It didn't mean he would, though. The direct approach wasn't working, so he'd have to try something else. What, though, he hadn't figured out yet. One thing he did know--Optimus deserved happiness and Rodimus deserved a chance with him. Well, they deserved each other. Not in a bad way either. The were Primes. It made perfect sense. Why couldn't Optimus see that?

"What are you thinking about?"

"Eh?" Ironhide asked, sparing the mech beside him a sidelong glance. He was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Springer, enjoying just being together.

"I said what are you thinking? Audios failing in your old age?" Springer asked.

"I'm not old," Ironhide said. "Kup is old. I'm just a seasoned warrior. As for what I'm thinking, Prime is stubborn. That's what."

"Which one?" Springer said.

"Optimus," Ironhide said. "Although Rodi is a close second."

Springer sighed, wondering what the two had done this time.

"Did they have another fight?" he said. Having been on exercises all day and most of the evening, he hadn't a chance yet to hear how things had gone that day.

"No," Ironhide said. "The opposite, in fact. They spent a lot of time talking in Optimus' office early this evening. Everyone in ops noticed, even Perceptor. I thought maybe. . ."

"What? You're not insinuating that Rodi's interested in him, are you?" Springer said. "That would never happen. . ."

"I think you need to talk to Rodi about it," Ironhide said. "But not tonight. And I know I'm right. Will you trust me on this?"

"I'll try," Springer said. "And I'll talk to Rodi in the morning."

"Good," Ironhide said, drawing Springer close.


	13. Chapter 13

Precipitous

Part 13-Tidings

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

0600. Prowl was glad to be out of the med bay, but Ratchet's demeanor was. . .strange. No threats, no sarcasm, just "take it easy I'll come check up on you in your quarters later." The Autobot second in command took that to mean staying in his quarters recharging until the medic dropped by. But it wouldn't hurt to maybe stop by the rec room and get some energon, would it? What reason could Arcee possibly have for being in the med bay that early? That thought finally entered Prowl's fogged processor. It didn't take a leap of logic to know she hadn't seen any combat in days, not since her last mission. . .yes, she'd been hinting to Rodimus she'd be more than happy to accept him in her efforts to spark an offspring. And as far as Prowl knew, Rodimus had shunned the advances.

Prowl stopped his line of thinking there. He didn't want to blow his battle processor so soon after getting out of the med bay. Collapsing in front of the closed med bay door would be convenient, but he chose to walk away while he still could.

-----

Optimus Prime gave his chief medical officer a dubious look. It wasn't that he didn't believe Ratchet's assessment of the current situation. Not after Red Alert confirmed the diagnosis, but still. . .Instead of questioning Ratchet, he turned his attention to Rodimus, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking uninterested in the discussion.

"I take it you did not have your conversation with Arcee?" Optimus asked.

"Conversation? What? Are you blaming *this* on me?" Hot Rod asked.

"I'm not blaming anyone for anything," Optimus said. "I was simply asking a question."

"I haven't been alone in the same room with Arcee in days," Hot Rod said. "That's been a situation I've tried to avoid."

He then noticed the gleam in Optimus' optics. He was joking. Optimus had a sense of humor, but he almost never displayed it around him.

"Funny Optimus," Hot Rod said.

"I concur," Ratchet said.

"I mean no disrespect to Arcee or her condition," Optimus said. "I have rarely had the chance to jest with Rodimus. If you'll forgive my bad timing. . ."

"Nothing to forgive," Ratchet said. "Although I will reiterate Arcee has refused to name the sire of the new spark she is carrying."

"That is her choice," Optimus said. "Unless she chooses to divulge that information."

"Optimus, spark-bearing is serious business, and something that should not be undertaken alone. . ." Ratchet started.

"Arcee made the decision on her own," Optimus said. "To bear a sparkling. She's hardly alone here."

"If that is all then," Ratchet said.

"Yes," Optimus said. "Arcee's condition is stable?"

"She is operating well within normal parameters for this stage in carrying," Ratchet said. "And Arcee is in the best hand possible. Red and I will take excellent care of her."

"Of that I have no doubt," Optimus said.

Ratchet nodded at the two Primes, waited for Red Alert to fall into step beside him. Optimus waited to say anything more until his office door was closed again.

"Interesting way to start out the day," Hot Rod said.

"Very," Optimus said. "You're not trouble by the fact Arcee chose someone other than you?"

Hot Rod hmphed, pulling up a chair.

"Relieved, actually," he said. "It's not that I don't want to sire a sparkling someday, it's just that. . .I don't know."

"She was rather persistent in her pursuit for some time," Optimus said.

"Obviously she moved on," Hot Rod said. "And I bet the sire of that sparkling is one of two mechs. But you'll never guess who."

Optimus frowned. How could that have escaped his notice?

"Who do you think?" he asked.

"Tracks or Sunstreaker," Hot Rod said.

"I know they fought over her once, but. . ."

"She's been spending time with both," Hot Rod said. "I noticed because she wasn't pestering me anymore. I am happy for her, though."

"A sparkling is welcome news indeed," Optimus said. "Although I will respect Arcee's wishes regarding keeping her condition confined to a need to know basis for now."

"You know how fast information burns through this base," Hot Rod said. "News, gossip or otherwise."

"I know," Optimus said, standing. "Come. Let's go get some energon. Rodimus, even though we have agreed to keep our relationship as is, there is no reason why we shouldn't try to get along now. I know things between us have not been easy, but I am willing to work with you, set aside our differences. Will you try?"

"No reason not to," Hot Rod said, smiling as Optimus put a hand on his shoulder as they headed toward the rec room.


	14. Chapter 14

Precipitous

Part 14-Obtuse

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

As the humans said, it it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out something was going on. Something more than normal, although "normal" among the Autobots and humans of NEST didn't exactly fit. Nor did the word "annoyed" cover the way Sideswipe was feeling. He wasn't stupid or unobservant. How could he not notice when Rodimus pulled Jazz aside before the special ops personnel meeting, talking for a few minutes before excusing himself. Or how Ratchet was suddenly preoccupied. Really preoccupied. He didn't even yell at him when he saw how mangled his arm was from the accident on the firing range involving himself, Skids, Mudflap and Ironhide. The clincher was the deletion of Arcee's name from the active duty roster.

Sideswipe knew there was only one good reason he could think of for the femme to be pulled from active duty. He, along with everyone else on base, at least the Autobot contingent, knew she was looking for someone to help her spark an offspring. He knew about her removal from active status because he'd been staring over Prowl's shoulder when he was going over the duty roster for the next two weeks during his mid-day break. Prowl wasn't supposed to be working, but he was anyway, and being considerate, Sideswipe had pointed this out, mainly just to get a rise out of Prowl. But all humor aside, the silver twin also knew that for a couple of weeks now exactly when and who his brother was interfacing. Arcee. So no, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on. Sunstreaker had knocked up the femme.

At least that was his leap of logic as he was headed to the quarters he shared with his twin. They were going to have a little talk. If Sunny had indeed accomplished the feat Arcee desired, oh for the love of little pink petrorabbits. . .Sunny was a twin. Who was interfacing with a femme with a split spark. What if Arcee was carrying twins? Like him and Sunny? For a few seconds, he felt like he was going to purge. All those times of being told over the years by various bots that they wished the twins would be saddled with a pair of offspring just like themselves if they ever became sires finally was coming home to roost. Another human saying that fit the situation.

But suddenly he brightened just a little. What if Ratchet hadn't yet come to the realization he'd reached? Sunny siring twins. Just like him and his brother. If the medic hadn't thought of it, Sideswipe would be glad to share the idea with him. Just as soon as he talked with Sunny.

-----

Hot Rod sighed, stretched, frowning as he heard his back struts popping in protest. Too many hours sitting behind a desk and he felt like he was going to rust in place. His shoulder and back were still a little stiff, and he made a mental note to have Ratchet or Red look at it when he had a chance.

He was finally caught up on all his reports, much to the relief of Optimus and Maj. Lennox. Optimus had graciously offered the use of his office for the task, much to Hot Rod's chagrin. First his quarters, now his office. Are the fates trying to tell me something, Hot Rod pondered as he stood. And too bad he couldn't maybe get Optimus to give him another back rub, like the morning before. . .he sighed. No, not going there. Off limits, out of bounds.

Before Hot Rod was even out of the office, Springer came barreling in.

"Good, I'm glad I caught you," Springer said. "We need to talk."

"About?" Hot Rod said, optic ridge raised.

"Just been hearing some interesting scuttlebutt around the base today," Springer said. "Your name came up more than once."

"Can we not talk here?" Hot Rod said.

"Sure," Springer said. "How about the beach?"

--

Springer didn't waste any time once they were outside.

"So is it true about Arcee?" Springer asked.

"Is what true?" Hot Rod said.

"That she's finally carrying," Springer said. "I know she's been pulled off active duty. Doesn't take much processor power to figure out what's going on. And I don't suppose uh, that, maybe. . ."

"Not me," Hot Rod said. "She only wanted me as a spark donor because I'm a Prime now. No other reason."

"You're crazy, you know that?" Springer said. "Lucky bastard, you've always had better luck with the prettiest femmes. . ."

Hot Rod snorted.

"Yeah, they only become interested in me after I've had my aft handed to me by them one too many times and I move on," he said. "But you've always been the lady's man, as the humans say."

"I can't help it if the femmes like me," Springer said.

"I'm sure Ironhide would love to hear you say that," Hot Rod retorted.

"My relationship with 'Hide is in no danger from any femme breaking it up," Springer said. "Hey, not to change the subject, but speaking of femmes, did you talk to Red about staying?"

"Yeah, the other night," Hot Rod said.

"What did she say?"

"She'll think about it," Hot Rod answered.

"Good," Springer said. "If she does decide to stay here instead of going back to the Xantium, maybe you two, I don't know, maybe she would give you a chance? You two were. . ."

"That was over before it began," Hot Rod said. "I helped her through a bad time, that's all."

"A 'bad time?' You were there for her through the worst. . .and that doesn't mean anything?" Springer said.

"It does," Hot Rod said. "But that is in the past."

"You're sure?" Springer said.

"Yes," Hot Rod said.

"Well, then I have another question to ask. Ironhide's got this crazy notion you were interested in Prime. He told me I should ask you, so I am. Are you?" Springer said.

Hot Rod sighed. No point in not telling the truth.

"I am. . .I mean, I was. But Optimus and I both agreed that we're better off the way we are. We've declared a truce, sort of," Hot Rod said.

Springer frowned.

"Optimus knows, could reciprocate your feelings and the two of you aren't doing anything about it?" he said.

"Spring, it's complicated, so can we just drop it?" Hot Rod asked.

"Complicated? Since when do you not go after something you want? The old Hot Rod I know would never back down from a challenge," Springer said.

"Like I said Spring, drop it," Hot Rod said, an edge to his voice Springer had never heard before.

"All right, Rodi," Springer said, wishing not for the first time things had not changed as much as they had.

-----

Sideswipe found his twin sitting on his berth, reading a data pad. Sunny was filling some of his non-interfacing down time by reading about the history of Earth's art. Of late, he was concentrating on the cave art from prehistoric France. Sideswipe knew this from what little time in the past couple of weeks he'd actually spent with his twin. The time when Sunny and he weren't on duty or when his brother wasn't interfacing the slag out of Arcee.

A direct course of action was probably best, Sideswipe reflected, snatching the data pad from Sunstreaker's hand, subspacing it.

"Sunny, is there something you'd like to tell me?" Sideswipe said, talking fast before his twin could protest the stolen data pad.

"About?" Sunstreaker asked, optics narrowing.

"Arcee," Sideswipe said.

"Are you jealous?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Of what?" Sideswipe snapped.

"You haven't said a word about how much time I've been spending with Arcee, so I assume you're upset because you and I haven't had much time together lately," Sunstreaker said.

"Hardly," Sideswipe said. From Sunny's reaction about mention of Arcee, the silver twin was beginning to wonder if the femme had said anything about her condition, if she was indeed carrying. If so, he was not going to be the one to inform his twin of his femme's condition.

"Then what?" Sunstreaker said.

"I think maybe you might want to go talk to Arcee," Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker frowned, now puzzled enough to not worry about such a look marring his features.

"I was going to go see her tonight," Sunstreaker said.

"Good," Sideswipe said. "Then go."

Sunny glared now, but didn't say anything as he walked from their quarters. Sideswipe followed him out, headed in the opposite direction. His head was starting to hurt, and only some time with Jazz and a little high grade would help.


	15. Chapter 15

Precipitous

Part 15-Fertile

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

:Rodimus:

Hot Rod ignored the comm.

:RODIMUS. Get off your aft. I need help an' you're the only one I trust. Lab:

Jazz. What the hell was wrong *now*? Hot Rod though, rolling off his berth. Moments later he found out what was wrong when he found Jazz sitting on the floor, arm around a clearly distraught Sunstreaker.

:What's the matter?: Hot Rod asked. :And why didn't you get Sideswipe instead?:

:'Sides is passed out in my quarters from too much high grade: Jazz said. :But he managed to tell me something was wrong with Sunny before he crashed. Just said he was hiding in the lab, didn't want anyone to find him and he'd kill 'Sides if he said anything. So much for that, but I don't suppose this has anything to do with Arcee, does it?:

:I don't like to assume, but my guess is probably: Hot Rod answered.

:Really? Sunny an' Arcee? Didn't see that coming: Jazz said. :Wanna help me get this guy back to his quarters? Can't imagine anything else causin' Sunny to behave like this.:

Hot Rod knelt down by the two mechs, put an arm around Sunstreaker, helped Jazz hoist him to his feet.

"C'mon, sunshine, looks like you could use some help," Hot Rod said.

"I don't need help," Sunstreaker said. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh," Jazz said. "You're shakin' so bad you can barely stand."

Sunstreaker glared, but gave up, realizing Jazz was right.

"And don't worry. We won't tell Ratchet," Hot Rod said. "As long as you get some rest."

"Yeah," Jazz said.

They felt the tension drain from Sunstreaker as he let them help him to his quarters. Once he was safely deposited on his berth and they were outside, Jazz grinned.

"Can you imagine what Ratchet's gonna do when he finds out Arcee's with Sunstreaker?" Jazz said. Then he notice the look on Rodimus' face. "Not that I'm gonna say anything."

"I hope I'm off the island when he does find out," Hot Rod said.

-----

Optimus Prime was headed back to his quarters. Being pulled from recharge by Perceptor in the middle of the night caused more than a little panic. The scientist was in charge of the watch in ops and unfortunately, this night, Skids and Mudflap were assigned to monitor duty, along with Blurr and Blaster. Fearing he'd see ops blown apart or something similar, the Autobot leader had practically ran to ops. But instead of finding chaos, all was well, which was almost as disconcerting as the thought of disorder. Skids and Mudflap weren't the problem. No, that pair of twins were on good behavior. Very good behavior since being given over to Ironhide's less than tender care.

Instead, Perceptor reported possible cometary forms picked up by NORAD in Colorado. Definitely merited being woken up, and in the morning, he'd see about putting a team together to go investigate. That wasn't the only matter on the Autobot leader's mind. Arcee's condition and explaining to the humans, personnel changes to deal with it and the possibility he'd been too hasty in agreeing to Rodimus' desire to keep things between them as is.

Any involvement beyond a working relationship would complicate matters between them. And that relationship had been fraught with difficulty from the beginning. Ironhide was right. He had been too hard on Rodimus, now regretted it. The young Prime was trying, had been all along. He'd once been in the same position. And, as Ironhide had pointed out days ago, Kup would rip him a new one if he knew how he'd treated Rodimus.

Rodimus did have friends, as Optimus did, but being Prime was a lonely existence.

Optimus was jolted from his thoughts when he saw a familiar red and black form coming down the corridor toward him.

"Everything all right?" he asked Rodimus.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "Just taking care of some stuff."

Optimus raised an optic ridge, interested, but if he was going to get along with Rodimus, he was going to have to learn to trust him.

"I'll see you in the morning, then," Optimus said, nodding, starting on his way again.

-----

"What?" Ironhide muttered.

The slight hitch in Springer's intakes as he came out of recharge was enough to wake the old warrior also.

"You were right," Springer said.

Ironhide grunted in response, not really caring at the moment what he was right about.

"About Rodi. But he said they're not going to do anything about it," Springer said.

The black mech sighed. "I know," Ironhide said. "Optimus said much the same thing. But I can tell you he's wrong about his current line of thinking."

Springer propped himself up on an elbow.

"'Hide, don't go interfering," he said.

"Who said I was going to interfere?" Ironhide said, sitting up, caressing Springer's face.

"Don't try and change the subject," Springer said. "I'm serious."

"I know," Ironhide said. "But I want Optimus to be happy and honestly, I think he and Rodi are quite suited for one another."

"That might be, but that's their business," Springer said.

"I won't interfere," Ironhide said.

Satisfied, Springer settled back alongside the big mech.

-----

Graham squinted at the bright sunlight. Damn sun. Why the hell couldn't it be cloudy? He'd forgotten his sunglasses in his quarters and now he was paying for it, walking across the base to the Autobot hangar with no way to help block out the sunlight making his aching head pound even harder. He had a rare hangover. Rare because he hadn't had the chance to drink in ages, barring the night before. Lennox gave the men the evening off, which resulted in a barbecue and later, somebody brought out the hooch. They'd all indulged, himself, Epps, and even Lennox, although not to the same extent, obviously.

Maybe Ratchet could suggest a decent hangover remedy that didn't involve raw eggs because the aspirin wasn't helping. Only sleep and quiet would cure his hangover, but he wasn't likely to get either soon.

Graham made for the med bay, deciding a brief stop wouldn't hurt before heading to Optimus' office to discuss the cometary blips from the previous night. However, as he entered Ratchet's domain, it was evident something was definitely wrong.

Optimus Prime was standing just inside the door, arms crossed, surveying the scene before him with steely optics. Ratchet was doubled over on the floor, holding his head, looking like he was in excruciating pain. Red Alert was beside him, wrench in hand.

Sideswipe was sitting on one of the surgical berths, looking amused.

"I was only trying to help," he said, optics bright with mirth. "Not my fault it never occurred to ol' Hatchet here the possibilities. But this whole thing just keeps getting better and better. . ."

"You're not helping," Sunstreaker muttered. The gold twin was standing by Arcee, his expression a mixture of awe and fear as he regarded the femme.

"Ratchet, are you all right?" Optimus asked.

The medic looked up.

"I don't think I'll ever be all right ever again," Ratchet said.

CLANG.

Red Alert subspaced the wrench in her hand as the the sound of Ratchet collapsing to the floor reverberated off the med bay walls.

"Now, if the drama is over, we need to straighten a few things out. Can every one calm down now?" Red Alert said. "Sunstreaker, Arcee, would you rather talk about this in private?"

Arcee looked at Sunstreaker, who shrugged.

"Everyone here already knows, so I don't think it really matters. We'll have to tell everyone eventually anyway," Arcee said.

Red sighed. "All right. Sunstreaker, to answer your question, yes, the spark Arcee is carrying has split. She is carrying twins," she said. "And everything is fine, so far. The two of you have nothing to worry about. Now go. You have much to discuss."

Arcee grabbed Sunstreaker's hand, twined her fingers with his, leading him from the med bay. Red Alert then turned her attention to Sideswipe, not caring she had an audience in her Prime and NEST's human second in command.

"You. . ." Red muttered, grabbing the silver twin by one of his shoulder fins. "I should weld your mouth to the berth for fritzing Ratchet like that. . .then again, I haven't seen him at a loss for words in so long. . .get out before I change my mind about those welds."

Sideswipe grinned as the female medic slapped him on the aft, leaving a confused human and ticked off Prime in his wake.

"That situation could have been handled with more tact," Optimus offered, leaning down to help Red Alert hoist Ratchet onto a berth.

"Tact? Sideswipe doesn't know the meaning of the word," Red Alert said. "Although you do have to admit, it was priceless, wasn't it? Ratchet realizing he's going to be present at the birth of a set of twins belong to one-half of his favorite set of twins?"

"Red, I don't think any of us are ready for *that*," Optimus said.

"No," she said, smiling. "And seeing Ratchet react like this. . .what do you think Prowl will do when he finds out?"

She gave her statement a few seconds to sink in for Optimus' benefit, couldn't bite back the rare grin gracing her features as her leader came to grips with the situation and its fallout.

"You might want to make sure he's here in the med bay when he finds out," Red Alert said. "It'll make him easier to treat."

Optimus didn't respond, simply squeezed the femme's shoulder, walked from the med bay, stopping only long enough for Graham to fall into step beside him. As much as a human could.

"I don't suppose you'd mind explaining all that?" Graham said.

"After the morning briefing," Optimus said.

"All right," Graham said.

"It's too damn early in the day for high grade. . ." Optimus muttered.

Graham stared up at the Autobot leader, not sure he'd heard correctly, but let it slide. It was going to be a very long day for everyone.


	16. Chapter 16

Precipitous

Part 16-Animosity

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod was surprised to find the morning briefing postponed an hour. It suited him just fine, although no one bothered to tell him why, so he headed for Optimus' office, looking for an explanation. As usual, the door to the Autobot leader's office was open, but instead of finding Optimus working, Hot Rod found him holding his head in his hands, optics offlined.

Optimus didn't look up either, when Hot Rod walked in. Either he was offline or something bad had occurred.

"Optimus?" Hot Rod asked as gently as he could. "What's happened?"

The older Prime sighed, glanced up at Hot Rod.

"Shut the doors and sit down," Optimus said.

Hot Rod did as ordered, optic ridge raised in curiosity as he took a seat across from Optimus.

"First, you were right about Sunstreaker," Optimus said. "He is indeed the sire of Arcee's sparkling. But that's not all."

He sighed. He still couldn't wrap his processor around it, but having seen the holographic projection of the two tiny sparks connected to Arcee's own, he knew the femme was carrying twins. A true blessing. But twins sired by Sunstreaker. . .

"The spark Arcee is carrying has split. She is now carrying twins," Optimus said.

Hot Rod stared at Optimus for a few seconds, then his face split in a grin.

"And you don't see this as a good thing?" Hot Rod asked.

"I do," Optimus said. "But you were not present for the scene Ratchet caused when he found out, aggravated in no small part by Sideswipe."

"What was the problem Ratchet had? Twins, or twins sired by Sunstreaker?" Hot Rod said.

"I'm not sure, but I think it was the part about Sunstreaker and siring twins," Optimus said. "Ratchet did not specify which issue caused him more pain, although I think I owe Red Alert a debt of gratitude for diffusing an already awkward situation."

"Did she do it with a wrench?" Hot Rod asked.

"Yes," Optimus said. "Although it was a relief to see Ratchet humbled in such a manner. Now I know why Springer fears Red Alert more than Ratchet."

"She's a damn good medic," Hot Rod said.

"I know," Optimus said. "That's why I would like her to stay here rather than go back to the Xantium. And now that you're here, we might as well discuss the matter of investigating the cometary forms detected last night."

Hot Rod settled back in his chair, hoping just maybe Optimus wouldn't put him in charge of the mission, but he knew he wasn't that lucky. And the next words out of Optimus' mouth proved that.

"I want you to lead the team in my stead," Optimus said. "I've been thinking about how I can improve things between us Rodimus, and I've come to realize I need to trust you more, and by doing so, I hope you come to understand that you can do this, Rodimus. Being a Prime doesn't mean you have to do this alone. When I became Prime, I had no one to help me through it, no one who knew what I was going through, beyond Kup and Ironhide, who helped me by being there. But I know now I've denied you the benefit of the experience I have, and again I apologize for not being more understanding."

Hot Rod was surprised by such an honest admission from Optimus, but on one hand, it wasn't a surprise. Optimus was an honest mech, but Hot Rod knew he was also proud and stubborn, but not too proud to admit he'd made a mistake.

"It's all right, Optimus," he said. "I've told you before--there is no need for apologies. I know I haven't made this easy for you, and I'm just as much to blame for the way things have been between us. And just so you know, I'm tired of hearing you apologize, so can we talk about something else?"

Optimus raised an optic ridge, but decided Rodimus was right. "Yes," he said. "We have much to discuss."

-----

NEST C-17, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean

Maj. William Lennox surveyed the men around him. The only sound he could hear was the sound of the plane's engines as they winged back home to headquarters. The plane's massive cargo hold, at the moment, was devoid of any Autobots, save one, Rodimus Prime in the guise of the red Dodge Challenger strapped down only a few feet away. Ironhide should have been with them, but he'd been one of the Autobots sent back to Diego Garcia via the Xantium by orbital bounce.

The NEST commander wanted to have words with the young Prime, but he was biding his time until they got back home. Incompetent, insolent, crazy. Just a few words that came to mind. And not to mention the fact *he* was still stinging from the dressing down he'd received from the young Autobot in the middle of combat. Yes, they might've been outnumbered, outgunned, ambushed and losing the fight, but that didn't mean the jackass could disobey orders and go over his head. Literally.

In the middle of the fight, Rodimus had gotten Blaster's attention long enough to tell him to contact the Xantium, radioing for reinforcements. A few seconds later, they had their backup, which arrived by orbital jump. Roadbuster, Scoop, Drift and Sandstorm appeared out of nowhere, evening the fight against the Decepticon combiner called Bruticus.

Lennox sighed, wishing he could push everything from his mind and get some sleep, but he couldn't. A Decepticon ambush could do that to somebody. He'd lost four men. One was one too many, and there were numerous injuries, ranging from serious to minor among his men in addition to the fatalities. And the Autobots. . .both of the cometary forms were Autobots. One was an engineer, whose name he'd heard many times in casual conversation among his Cybertronian friends--Wheeljack. Unfortunately, Wheeljack was in stasis lock.. The other was an Autobot named Kup. Both of them, along with Ironhide and Sideswipe, had been transported to the Xantium along with the rest of her crew. Sideswipe had volunteered to go, mainly to keep an eye on the one named Kup, who'd been more than angry over how things went down. Ironhide's absence was because he'd been ordered to go along to help Sideswipe keep an eye on the ancient Autobot who didn't fight like he was so old.

Another sore spot was the fact the human NEST personnel had a 20-hour flight back to Diego Garcia. Lennox was angry, but at the moment, he was too exhausted to think about it anymore. Closing his eyes, he drifted off to sleep.

-----

Confined to the med bay with no one but Perceptor for company wasn't what Kup expected for his reunion with his friends. Nor had he anticipated a Decepticon ambush once arriving on what he now considered a Primus-forsake backwater. He needed to talk to someone, anyone, about anything that wasn't science. Kup knew his own processor was a little addled, but he was beginning to wonder about the possibility he'd been rendered permanently offline and was now in the Pit. No, that was crazy. But then again, he wasn't sure he completely trusted his optics after the past few hours, despite Perceptor's assurances to the contrary.

"Perceptor, can I talk to Prime? He is here, isn't he? Please, just a few minutes, that's all I want," Kup said.

Perceptor regarded the ancient Autobot with kind optics.

"Prime is currently in conference with our human allies in Washington, D.C. I'll send along a message to Jazz so he can notify Prime you would like to speak with him," he said.

"Thanks," Kup said, settling back on his berth.

-----

The conference with Morshower had been brief. The general was satisfied with Optimus' report, Graham reflected, but the Autobot leader's own emotional state after hearing how well the retrieval mission had gone was anyone's guess. Optimus' battle mask was in place, rendering his face unreadable. Not a good sign, Graham thought. Not at all. It would be hours yet before Lennox's and Rodimus' teams landed, but Blaster was in constant communication with the base as well as the Xantium.

"Will the engineer live?" Graham finally asked as he walked with Optimus toward the med bay.

"He could be in stasis lock for years if he's badly damaged," Optimus said. "However, the med bay on the Xantium is far more advanced than what we have here on base, and Ratchet and Red Alert are two of the finest medics Cybertron produced. They stand a good chance of being able to bring him out of it."

"That's good to hear," Graham said.

"Yes," Optimus said as they reached the med bay. Jazz had relayed Kup's desire to speak with him, and he wasn't going to keep him waiting any longer. "Graham, would you please wait here? I would like to speak to Kup alone."

"Yes," Graham said, watching the Autobot leader enter the med bay. Seconds later, Perceptor joined the human in the corridor, giving him a nod as he passed.

--

A frown graced Kup's worn features. He was sitting on the edge of one of the surgical berth, arms crossed, staring at the taller, younger, wildly painted mech in front of him.

"Flames? Bit ostentatious for a mech like you, ain't it?" Kup asked.

Optimus regarded his former mentor and old friend with a raised optic ridge.

"It's good to see you too, old friend," Optimus said.

"Optimus. . .lad, you have no idea how happy I am to be here," Kup said, standing. He engulfed the Autobot leader in a hug, which Optimus reciprocated.

"Now, would you mind tellin' me what in the Pit is goin' on around here? Was that Hot Rod I saw out there today yellin' orders? Or was I hallucinating?" Kup said.

"It was indeed Hot Rod," Optimus said.

"And what are you doing here?" Kup said.

"Rodim. . .Hot Rod has. . .earned a promotion of sorts," Optimus said, deciding to not broach the subject of Hot Rod's change in status. He figured Rodimus would like to tell Kup himself.

"Must've been some promotion," Kup said, sitting back down on the berth. "The lad still a pain in the aft?"

"You have no idea," Optimus muttered.

"That bad?" Kup asked.

"At times," Optimus said. "However, now is not the time to have this discussion. I have other matters to attend which will keep me occupied until my teams return. Until then Kup, stay here and get some rest, all right?"

Kup nodded. Optimus clapped him on the shoulder, leaving him alone.


	17. Chapter 17

Precipitous

Part 17-Divide

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The sun was setting as the two NEST C-17s taxied to a landing. Optimus Prime watched, waiting, Graham beside him. The ramp on the first descended, humans disembarking before the Autobots. And one human in particular was making straight for the Autobot leader--Lennox, flanked by a reluctant Epps.

"We need to talk," Lennox said as he passed Optimus. He turned, following the human, but stopped, waiting for Rodimus to leave the plane. Optimus watched the red car transform, met the other Prime's optics for a second before Rodimus broke the contact, staring at the ground as he advanced toward him.

--

Moments later, Optimus was in his office with an angry Lennox, listening to the NEST co-commander discuss at length everything he'd thought had gone wrong.

"Our intel on this was non-existent," Lennox said. "How could those Decepticons have. . ."

"They had almost an entire day to move in on Kup and Wheeljack's position while your team was in transit," Optimus said. "You know how hard it is to detect a Decepticon's presence, even for us. However, if Wheeljack survives, he might have a solution to make them easier to find."

"That still doesn't change anything," Lennox said, trying to resist the urge to pace. "I lost four men, and Rodimus disobeyed a direct order when he contacted the Xantium."

"That may be, but Rodimus saved more lives when he radioed for backup," Optimus said. "I don't condone his actions, but the results did turn the tide of battle in your favor, did they not?"

"Yes," Lennox reluctantly admitted. "But that's not the issue here. The fact is Rodimus defied a direct order. We're supposed to share command. . ."

"Next time. . ." Optimus started, but Lennox waved him off.

"Next time Rodimus is on a mission, he better not be in command," Lennox said. "And just so you know, I'm not blaming him for this fiasco. Not completely anyway."

"If there is any blame to be laid, it is mine," Optimus said. "Making him lead when he is clearly not ready. . ."

"It's nobody's fault," Lennox said. "I mean, I'm just as much to blame for what happened as he was, thinking I knew better. But I want you to know one thing--I just want to make damn sure Rodimus has a clear understanding of the chain of command."

-----

Graham was waiting outside in the corridor with Rodimus, who was leaning against the wall, optics offlined. Epps was standing beside him, mainly for moral support on Rodimus' behalf. The SAS soldier snapped to attention as the door to Optimus' office opened, Lennox walked out.

"At ease," Lennox said. "Epps, Graham, go get some sleep. We'll finish this in the morning."

He looked up at Rodimus, who was staring back.

"Optimus would like to talk to you," Lennox said.

Hot Rod didn't say anything, merely nodded at the human, walked into Optimus' office, not ready to face the Autobot leader. He flinched as the door to the office clanged shut, didn't bother standing at attention. What was the point?

""Why do you persist in disobeying orders?" Optimus asked, sitting back in his chairs, arms crossed. He was in no mood to be gentle, despite circumstances calling for it.

"If I hadn't, I wouldn't be standing here right now and you know as well as I do every one of those humans would've come back in a body bag, if they were lucky," Hot Rod said.

"You disobeyed a direct order to fall back," Optimus said. "Why didn't you issue the call to the Autobots under your command?"

"Because I disagreed with Lennox's assessment of the situation," Hot Rod said. "And more importantly, I wasn't going to leave two Autobots unable to protect themselves in a combat situation."

"So you're saying the life of an Autobot is more valuable than that of a human?" Optimus said.

"No," Hot Rod said. "Hardly, but it was Kup. And Wheeljack was in no condition. . ."

"You made a tactical decision based on your emotions," Optimus said. "Not logic, not using common sense."

Hot Rod clenched a fist in anger. "Common sense dictated I do what was necessary to save lives--Autobot and human," he said. "Contacting the Xantium for backup was my logical conclusion. What was I supposed to do, let those Decepticons slaughter us as we called a retreat?"

"No," Optimus said.

"Are we done then?" Hot Rod said. "I'm too tired to deal with this right now."

"We will deal with it now," Optimus said, voice low and steady.

Hot Rod's optics widened. That tone meant one thing and one thing only--Prime was _angry_. Furious.

"You've angered Lennox, possibly damaged our rapport with our allies, all because of your arrogance and inexperience," Optimus said.

Hot Rod frowned.

"Arrogance? You think I did what I did out of arrogance?" Hot Rod said, voice rising, but he stopped himself from yelling. "I called the Xantium because I didn't know what else to do. I hardly think that's arrogance. Although on the other hand. . .you want to talk about arrogance, what about you--constantly going on about the legacy of the Primes, our duty, when you hardly practice what you preach. You spend more time behind a desk now trying to keep the humans happy than actually trying. . ."

"Thats enough," Optimus growled.

"Can I go then?" Hot Rod asked.

"Hardly," Optimus said. "But I can see nothing I can say or do will make a difference tonight. I only have one more thing to say--I think you're afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Hot Rod snapped.

"Of becoming part of something bigger than yourself, living to serve others instead of living to serve yourself," Optimus said. "That's what it means to be a Prime."

"Save it," Hot Rod said. "I don't need to hear anymore lectures myself."

He turned, walking away.


	18. Chapter 18

Precipitous

Part 18-Concern

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

:I hope you weren't too hard on him:

:Ironhide, leave me alone: Optimus snapped.

:Rodimus was doing his job, your job if you'd taken this mission yourself. Do you and I need to have a discussion about how you *haven't* been specific on what his duties are supposed to be?: Ironhide said. :I know I'm just a soldier and my opinion doesn't count because you're Prime and I'm not, but in this case, I think Rodimus' judgment was sound. He did the right thing. Without backup, none of us would have survived. Even I can admit that. I imagine Lennox agrees too, but he's just angry because Rodimus disobeyed his orders:

:Ironhide, you can give me a full report in the morning. Now go away: Optimus said.

:I'm not done yet:

Seconds later, Optimus found himself hauled off his berth and at Ironhide's feet after the weapons specialist belted him in the jaw.

"What was that for?" Optimus said. "I could have you placed in the brig. . ."

"Try it," Ironhide said. "And just so you know, that was for being stubborn and stupid. You and Rodimus could be sharing a berth now, you could be offering comfort and compassion and instead you send him off again, and I suppose you didn't stop and ask if he was all right? If he needed repairs?"

He watched as Optimus lowered himself back to the floor from where he'd started to stand, offlining and onlining his optics quickly several times in a fair imitation of a human blink.

"Didn't, eh?" Ironhide said. "I should bust you again. . .but the fun I'll know you'll be having beating yourself up over this is enough for me. And wait until Kup finds out. . ."

"Ironhide. . ." Optimus said, a warning in his tone.

"You'll have my report by the end of shift tomorrow," Ironhide said.

-----

The door to his quarters was chiming. Hot Rod stood, flinching in pain as he walked to the door. He knew it wasn't Springer because he was still up on the Xantium. Ironhide had the access code and would just let himself in if he wanted. Hot Rod opened the door, sighed when he saw Optimus Prime standing in front of him.

"Have you seen Perceptor yet?" Optimus asked.

"No," Hot Rod said. "It can wait."

He watched as Optimus' optics flared as he ran a scan over the younger Prime. Rodimus was right, but he would need medical attention sooner or later.

"You should go to Perceptor," Optimus gently chided. "You'll feel better. . ."

"The only thing that will make me feel better right now is you leaving," Hot Rod said. "What, didn't get all your shots in earlier?"

"It's my responsibility. . ."

"To what? Rip me again?" Hot Rod said.

"To make sure everyone under my command is in optimal operating conditions to do their duty," Optimus finished.

"Well, I'm not, so why don't you throw me in the brig or pull me off active duty and get it over with," Hot Rod said. "Instead of hiding behind talk of responsibility and duty. Don't you ever do anything because you want to? Why do you have to have a *reason* to do everything? Why does everything with you have to have a justification? Before you talked of serving others, that that's what it is to be a Prime. But what about you, Optimus? Is there anything left of who you used to be?"

Optimus hesitated before answering. He was Prime. No one else. Until now.

"I am still Optimus," he said. "But I am Prime. That comes first. Nothing else. The burden I've carried for so long is not one I would wish upon another, yet you have been chosen, as I was. And I've never meant for this to be so difficult, Rodimus. . ."

Hot Rod regarded him, his expression unreadable for several moments before he spoke.

"You're right--when you said I was afraid. I am. I'm afraid of losing myself," Hot Rod said. "Everything's changed, and no one treats me the same and I don't know where I stand anymore. . ."

"You. . ." Optimus started, but Hot Rod waved him off.

"Look, I've said and done enough for one night. So have you," Hot Rod said. "Can we drop it for now? Please?"

Optimus nodded, watched the door shut in his face.

-----

0800. Time to be up and around. Hot Rod rolled off his berth, almost made it to the med bay without getting caught, but Ironhide managed to sneak up on him.

"You should have taken care of those repairs last night," Ironhide said, falling into step beside the younger Autobot. "But you're lucky. Ratchet and Red Alert are still up on the Xantium attending to Wheeljack, so it's Perceptor you'll get. And if you're worrying about seeing Kup, he let himself out of the med bay when Perceptor wasn't looking. I'm supposed to be looking for him."

Hot Rod stopped.

"How is Wheeljack?"

"He's alive," Ironhide said. "Last time I checked they were beginning the process to bring him out of stasis lock before transferring him to one of the ship's CR chambers. Once it's complete, Ratchet plans on returning to base, so I'd get those repairs taken care of now if I were you."

"At least some good came of last night," Hot Rod said.

"You kept others from dying," Ironhide said. "I'd say it wasn't all bad. And you're not the only one who received a reprimand, although Will's was much tamer than yours, and it was in front of Optimus, Graham, Epps, myself, and the rest of the humans in the command center. Gen. Morshower wasn't completely happy with the way the situation was handled on the human side, either."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Hot Rod said.

"I expected as much," Ironhide said. "Get those repairs taken care of and grab some energon. We all have a long day ahead of us."

-----

Graham was leaning comfortably against Hot Rod, who was in his vehicular mode. This time he'd remembered his sunglasses. Human and Cybertronian were watching Skids and Mudflap evade weapons fire from Ironhide, Jazz and Sunstreaker.

"Think Optimus will say anything when he finds out they're using live ammunition?" Graham asked.

"Probably," Hot Rod said. "But he's not here, is he?"

Hot Rod revved his engine suddenly as Skids and Mudflap slid to a stop beside him. Graham stepped away.

"Boys, let a professional show you how it's done," Hot Rod said, smoking his tires and leaving the stench of burning rubber hanging in the air as he peeled out.

-----

Sideswipe sat down on Prowl's desk. It wasn't an unusual occurrence, quite the opposite. The second in command was used to working with either Jazz or Sideswipe perched on his desk beside him, although Jazz was usually working also. Sideswipe just talked while he worked. At the moment, Prowl was glad for the distraction. He was in charge (again) because Optimus and Lennox had been called away to deal with a Decepticon sighting. It did feel good to be back on duty, assuming his responsibilities again and as usual, Optimus had been overworking himself and pushing Rodimus too far. His leader needed a good talking-to and he planned on working it into his schedule when he could. Collaborating with Jazz would work best, and it would have more impact and oh wait Perceptor had already put in a request for a full-fledged lab? Prowl pinched the bridge of his nose, set down one data pad and picked up another, half-heartedly listening to the silver twin.

"I guess you know about Arcee then," Sideswipe said.

"You were there when I removed her name from the active duty roster," Prowl said, continuing to sort data pads according to department and priority level. "And I am well aware of the fact she is now carrying."

"So you don't know who the sire is?" Sideswipe asked.

"No, because that is Arcee's business," Prowl said. "Such knowledge, at least to me, is irrelevant. I'm not a gossip, like you."

"Then you don't want to know that Arcee is carrying twins?" Sideswipe said.

Prowl's head snapped up, the data pad in his hands set down. Blue optics suddenly locked on Sideswipe's own.

"Twins?" Prowl said.

"Yup," Sideswipe said.

Prowl stood, grabbed Sideswipe by the shoulder.

"Twins? Arcee is carrying twins?" he said.

"Didn't you hear me the first time?" Sideswipe said. "And that's got me thinking lately. . .Not that I want to upstage Sunny or anything, but. . .I'd like to do my part to help ensure the survival of our race and all that and I was wondering. . . if I could enlist your assistance? It's down to you or Jazz, but I thought I'd ask you first. Your processor, my looks--that would be one lucky sparkling. . ."

Fingers suddenly dug into Sideswipe's armor. The sensation wasn't unpleasant, but the look on Prowl's face was suddenly a little confused.

"What does Sunstreaker have to do with Arcee carrying twins?" Prowl said.

It suddenly crossed Sideswipe's mind that Prowl finding out about Sunny's impending fatherhood like he had probably wasn't a good idea.

"Uh. . ." was all Sideswipe could muster because Prowl was nearly nose to nose with him, optics blazing almost white.

"You mean to tell me *SUNSTREAKER* is the sire of Arcee's offspring?" Prowl said.

Sideswipe gave the barest of nods. Suddenly, Prowl's optics darkened, a popping sound emanated from his head as connections in his processor blew, and the second in command's body hit the floor before Sideswipe could react.


	19. Chapter 19

Precipitous

Part 19-Distraction

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"Any word?" Hot Rod asked Jazz as they walked down the corridor to the med bay.

"Not yet," Jazz said. "But it's only been seven hours, so it'll be a while yet before they send us back anything beyond routine communication."

Hot Rod sighed.

"What was that for?" Jazz asked.

"Do you really need to ask?" Hot Rod said. "At least if this mission heads south, Optimus is responsible, not me."

"That's not a nice thing to say," Jazz said.

"I know," Hot Rod said. "But it's the truth."

"That might be, but do I need to remind you to show a little respect?" Jazz said.

"Jazz, I'm sorry," Hot Rod said. "It's just that. . ."

"I heard all about it this morning while you were in the med bay," Jazz said. "And I've read Ironhide's report. I know you're not happy with Optimus right now, but you two need to give each other a chance, really get to know one another."

"Like that'll happen," Hot Rod muttered as they turned inside the med bay.

Ratchet looked up when he saw the young Prime and Autobot third in command. The medic was standing beside a berth occupied by Prowl, who was glaring up at him.

"I don't suppose you two have cornered Sideswipe yet?" Ratchet asked.

"Haven't even tried yet, but Sunny's lookin' for him," Jazz said. "How's Prowler?"

"Better," Ratchet said, smiling down at Prowl, who, if he didn't know better, looked like he was pouting.

"So, what did Sideswipe do to put Prowl in here?" Hot Rod said.

"Ask Prowl," Ratchet said. "This is too good to pass up hearing again, although I think I'm going to kill Sideswipe for giving me more nightmares. . ."

"Do I have to?" Prowl asked.

Ratchet crossed his arms, gazing down calmly at Prowl, then switched his attention to Rodimus.

"In light of Prowl's latest convalescence, I'm pulling him from active duty. Again. I expect you and Jazz will work out the command details between yourselves, and can reach a suitable arrangement that will work out until Prime returns" Ratchet said. "And I am now asking as a personal favor to me--I am not asking lightly, mind you--please go find Sideswipe and keep Sunstreaker from killing him."

Hot Rod glanced at Jazz, who shrugged. "I'll assume command, if it's all right with you, and you can take the watch tonight in ops," Jazz said.

The young Prime nodded, walking from the med bay. Once he was gone, Jazz turned his attention back to Prowl. Ratchet gone back to his office.

"C'mon, Prowler," Jazz said, flashing his best smile. "Spill. What happened this time?"

Prowl sighed.

"Sideswipe informed me that Arcee is carrying twins, twins sired by Sunstreaker," he said. "And the slagger. . .I'm going to kill him. I'm flattered, but I'm going to kill him. . ."

"What else did he do?" Jazz asked.

Prowl frowned.

"What makes you think he did anything else?" he asked.

Jazz sat down on the berth beside Prowl. "Because when Sideswipe makes you fritz, it's usually epic," he said. "This is no exception."

Another sigh from Prowl, who was now staring at the floor.

"Sideswipe propositioned me," Prowl said.

Jazz crossed his arms, choosing not to address that just yet.

"So which part made you fritz?" Jazz asked.

"I think the part about Sunstreaker becoming a sire," Prowl said. "Please tell me I was hearing things. . ."

"There's nothing wrong with your hearing, Prowler," Jazz said.

Prowl rubbed his head. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said.

Jazz patted him on the shoulder.

"It'll be all right, Prowler," he said. "And besides, it's taken Sunny down a notch or two, humbled him a little, so the situation can't be all bad, can it?"

"Hasn't helped Sideswipe's ego any at all," Prowl muttered.

"About 'Sides," Jazz said. "If you're flattered he's interested, why don't you do something about it?"

Prowl locked optics with Jazz. "Because I don't think he was serious," he said.

"You never know," Jazz said. "Look, get some rest, OK?"

He stood, walking from the med bay. The third in command was going to find out just how serious Sideswipe was.

-----

Ironhide and Kup stopped when they saw Sideswipe running down the corridor, Sunstreaker hot on his heels.

"You're dead!" Sunstreaker yelled, but he skidded to a halt when he saw just who it was standing in the corridor staring at him like he was crazy. Well, at the moment, he was more than a little crazy, circumstances being what they were.

"Kup?" Sunstreaker said, optic ridge raised. "What are you doing out of the med bay? I thought you were confined there?"

"I decided to take a walk," Kup said.

"I was just escorting him back, taking the long way around," Ironhide said.

"Same old Kup," Sunstreaker said, swallowing his pride long enough to engulf the ancient mech in a hug before taking off again after Sideswipe.

"What's that all about?" Kup asked.

Ironhide shrugged.

"You know how those two are," Ironhide said.

"Tell me about it," Kup said. "Two of the craziest Autobots I ever trained."

"Speaking of crazy, I better get you back to the med bay before Ratchet comes looking for us," Ironhide said.

Kup hmphed. He didn't really want to go back, but he knew his friend was right.

"Yeah, don't want ol' Hatchet to blow a gasket," he said.

-----

Hot Rod found Sideswipe and Sunstreaker out on the tarmac--Sunstreaker had Sideswipe in a headlock with one arm, was trying to pound his brother's head with the other but Sideswipe had his hand in a death grip.

"He had to find out, I mean, it's Prowlie. . .how long's it been since we did anything to him? C'mon Sunny, get over it already. . .*everybody* knows anyway, well, not Kup and Wheeljack but. . ." Sideswipe stopped when he heard weapons onlining, grinning up at Rodimus.

:He's not gonna hurt me too much: Sideswipe told the other Autobot over his internal comm.

:I'm gonna hurt him a lot if he doesn't let go of you: Hot Rod said. :And let's not forget about Ratchet:

"Let him go," Hot Rod said. "I'm in no mood, so if you don't want your aft shot off. . ."

Sunstreaker glared at the young Prime, but he let go of his brother. Hot Rod offlined his weapons.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Hot Rod said. "Do you two think you can keep from pounding each other for just one day? If not that, a few hours? Please?"

"Why should we do anything you say?" Sunstreaker said. "You might be a Prime, but you're not *the* Prime. You don't scare me."

"Because I can run interference with Optimus," Hot Rod said. "Just think about that the next time you pull a prank."

He walked away, leaving the twins contemplating his words.

-----


	20. Chapter 20

Precipitous

Part 20-Clash

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Kup grinned at Ratchet as he walked into the med bay. Prowl perked up, rare mirth in his optics as he sat up, welcoming anything that would make his stay in the med bay more interesting.

Ratchet looked the ancient Autobot up and down, raised an optic ridge. Kup was no longer in his protoform.

"I thought I warned you about trans-scanning anything until I gave you a clean bill of health," Ratchet said. "You need rest and energon. . ."

"Stow it," Kup said. "I know all that."

"Yet you defied medical orders anyway," Ratchet said, frowning. "You're just lucky I've had Prowl to occupy my attention."

"What are you in for?" Kup asked, sitting down on the berth across from Prowl's."

"Crashed logic center," Prowl said.

"You mean Ratchet hasn't figured out how to fix that yet?" Kup said.

"I'll fix you if you don't shut up," Ratchet said.

"Then I guess asking about Hot Rod is out of the question?" Kup said.

"No, it's not," Ratchet said. "You'll get to see him soon enough, and Springer will be back tomorrow with Prime's team. So relax and rest."

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear Hot Rod was avoiding me," Kup started to speak but the look he received from Ratchet made him think twice.

"Hot Rod has been busy with his duties," Ratchet said. "As have we all. I don't think he's avoiding you. There's nothing to worry about."

Kup raised an optic ridge, noticing the glance exchanged by Prowl and Ratchet, but settled back on his berth, dismissing it.

:Why don't you just tell Kup the truth?: Prowl asked.

:Because it is not my place. Nor is it yours: Ratchet said. :I believe this is something important enough for Rodimus to share himself. Becoming a Prime is not something that happens everyday:

:How do you think Kup will take the news?: Prowl asked.

:No telling: Ratchet said. :Rest:

-----

The night watch was quiet. So far. This night, Hot Rod was in charge of a skeleton crew--Arcee, Jolt and Perceptor. Both Arcee and Jolt were being diligent about their monitor duty. Perceptor, however, was multitasking--he was occasionally glancing down at a data pad in his hand he was trying to hide beneath his console.

Hot Rod knew he should've said something about it, but Perceptor was allowed to be distracted, just a little. He was worried about Wheeljack, who had only been transferred to one of the Xantium's CR chambers hours before. The engineer's condition was stable, much to everyone's relief. And as long as Perceptor wasn't reading about anything that would blow up the base, Hot Rod guessed it was OK for him to be reading.

Then there was the matter of Arcee's presence on the watch. Hot Rod had been informed by Jazz earlier that she had been cleared for monitor duty. As long as she wasn't stressed or pushing herself too hard, she was allowed that much. But Hot Rod knew anyone keeping Arcee from pushing herself wouldn't do much good.

Thoughts of being pushed too hard cycled his own processor around to Optimus. Crazy, stubborn slagger. Maybe not crazy, but he was stubborn. Immovable. But then again, Hot Rod reflected, he was the same way sometimes, especially now, when it came to his decision to keep his relationship with Optimus as it was. And trying to work together, settle their differences only seemed to make things worse.

He pushed those thoughts from his mind, instead, thinking about Kup. He wanted to see him, figured waiting for Springer to return would be best, so they could see Kup together. And as for telling his old mentor he was now a Prime, well, that he would do in private. That settled, Hot Rod sighed. Eight hours to go on watch. Eight hours too many.

-----

Jazz stood in front of the door to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's quarters, arms crossed, contemplating how best to approach the situation at hand. He knew Sunny wasn't inside. No, the gold twin was recharging in Arcee's quarters. Sideswipe was alone. And the slagger wanted Prowl? Well, he'd find out for sure in a few moments. How he felt about that he didn't know yet. He could mull it over later. For now, he had Sideswipe to scare.

--

Sideswipe was recharging peacefully. No nocturnal activities on Sunny's part to keep him awake. At least it was until he found himself not so alone his quarters. The silver twin tried to move but he couldn't. He was stuck fast to the berth. Jazz was suddenly looming over him, causing Sideswipe to realize the special ops commander was using his electromagnetic field to keep him pinned.

"Hey 'Sides," Jazz said.

"Jazz," Sideswipe replied casually. "What can I do for you?"

"Answer a few questions," Jazz said.

Sideswipe tried to raise his head, but he was stuck fast.

"If this about the missing flash grenades, that wasn't me. . ." he said.

"I don't care about missing flash grenades," Jazz said. "But now that you mention it, you can tell me who stole them from the armory later. I'm actually here about Prowl."

"Prowl? He's fine, isn't he?" Sideswipe asked.

"Now," Jazz said.

"Look, if this is about blowing his processor, I'm sorry. Kind of," Sideswipe said. "You shoulda seen the sparks flying. . .kinda pretty. . ."

He stopped. Prowl, eh? This was interesting.

"I've seen it before," Jazz said. "Although you could've been a little more tactful with the way you told him about Sunny and Arcee."

"He would've crashed anyway," Sideswipe said.

"Uh huh," Jazz said. "I know. But that's not my concern. When you. . .propositioned Prowl, were you being serious, or were you kidding around? If you're serious about him, that's fine, but if you're not. . ."

The lights suddenly went off in Sideswipe's head. Jazz liked Prowl, eh? This could work out to everyone's mutual benefit if he worked it right. . .

"I do like Prowl," Sideswipe said. "I wouldn't bug him so much if I didn't. I mean, I told him if he wasn't up to, uh, you know. . .Sunny's situation got me to thinking, and I figured if Prowl didn't want to help me, maybe you would. . ."

"What in the Pit are you talking about?" Jazz said. "Now I know you're not being serious."

"I was, I mean, I am," Sideswipe said. "How long have the three of us been friends?

"A long time," Jazz said.

"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "But have you ever given any thought to being more than that?"

-----

Sunstreaker was still wondering how he'd let Arcee to convince him to apologize to Sideswipe for his attempted fratricide earlier that day. It was late, late enough he wanted to be back in recharge with the femme, but she wouldn't let him back in her quarters until he apologized to Sideswipe. The gold twin really hadn't done anything besides chase his brother around, thanks to Rodimus. Maybe he should've let *him* knock some sense into 'Sides. Primus knew he needed, being interested in Prowl. _Prowl_. The hard-assed, by the rules, always right no matter what stickler for rules, protocol, second in command to their Prime.

Crazy damn slagger brother had even propositioned their second in command. Huge breach of protocol worthy of significant time in the brig, had to be, Sunstreaker thought, yet 'Sides was still running free. Unless of course Prowl _wanted_ to be with Sideswipe. . .Oh Primus. . .And what if they they did get together and managed to spark an offspring of their own?

Sunstreaker reached out a hand to steady himself against the wall. It was Primus' revenge for all the pranks they'd pulled over the years, had to be. Although what would Ratchet do if Prowlie and 'Sides got together? That thought made him grin as he rounded the corner into the quarters he shared with his twin. Wait a minute why was the door already open? And why was Jazz there? With 'Sides pinned?

"Am I interrupting something?" Sunstreaker said sarcastically.

Jazz's head snapped around, causing his concentration to lag long enough for his magnetic field to falter, allowing Sideswipe to sit up.

"Just having a discussion," Sideswipe said.

"Yup," Jazz said.

Sunstreaker crossed his arms.

"About what?" he asked.

"Nothing," Sideswipe said.

"Doesn't look like nothing to me," Sunstreaker said.

Sunny, get out. It's OK, Sideswipe said through their bond.

_Doesn't look like it. This wouldn't be about Prowl, would it? Is Jazz jealous?_ Sunstreaker asked.

_Are you out of your mind?_ Sideswipe said. _Sunny, butt out before I kick you out. What're you doing here anyway?_

_I came to apologize for my behavior earlier, but I don't think I'm the one who needs to be apologizing, _Sunstreaker said.

_Arcee made you come? That's sweet,_ Sideswipe said.

_Sweet? Are you calling me sweet? _

_And here I thought the fact you're going to be a sire had actually helped your ego. Guess I was wrong,_ Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker suddenly launched himself at his twin, tackling him to the ground. Jazz decided it was the perfect opportunity to teach both twins a lesson. He onlined his weapons. taking careful aim to hit Sideswipe in the aft. The silver twin rolled off Sunstreaker, howling in pain, grabbing his smoking posterior.

"Thanks, Jazz," Sunstreaker said.

"Don't thank me yet," Jazz said, punching Sunstreaker in the face. "Hope I didn't cause too much damage."

-----

Hot Rod held his throbbing head in both hands, staring down at Optimus's desk, avoiding the gaze of the two mechs standing across the desk from him. Ironhide regarded him with amusement; Ratchet with annoyance.

"Please tell me you're letting Prowl out of the med bay," Hot Rod said, finally looking up at Ratchet.

"He's staying there until morning, and he's off duty for at least a day," the medic said. "Prowl doesn't need anymore stress."

Neither do I, Hot Rod thought, but he didn't vocalize his annoyance.

"You asked my opinion on the matter of leadership until Optimus returns, and I believe you should take command," Ratchet said. "I nominate Ironhide as your second in command. The others should be back sometime today, so you won't be in charge that long."

"Long enough," Hot Rod muttered.

"Do you require anything else?" Ratchet asked.

"Could you declare me unfit for duty?" Hot Rod said.

"I think one ranking officer confined to quarters for one night is enough," Ratchet said. "Good night, Rodimus."

Suddenly the urge to smash his head on Optimus' desk until he was unconscious was almost overwhelming. Instead, Hot Rod counted to 10, hoping the stress he was feeling would lessen. But it didn't.

"I'd say some high grade was in order, but considering you're now in charge, it'll have to wait," Ironhide said. "Look at this as a learning experience."

"Ironhide, you're not helping," Hot Rod said.

"Is there anything that would?" Ironhide said.

"I don't know," Hot Rod said. "Maybe an explanation as to why Jazz unloaded on the twins?"

"Stress? Annoyance?" Ironhide said. "Look on the bright side--at least it wasn't Skids and Mudflap this time."

Hot Rod snorted.

"Rodimus, I can take the rest of the watch if you'd like," Ironhide said. "Go get some rest. I'll comm you if there's anything out of the ordinary or we hear from Optimus and Lennox. Go Rodi. Don't argue with me."


	21. Chapter 21

Precipitous

Part 20-Relinquish

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod stood at attention, listening dutifully as Gen. Morshower talked about the the personnel changes coming up over the next few weeks. The humans in the NEST team currently on their way back to base were being granted two weeks' leave once they were back. Graham would be in charge of the human portion of NEST, which Hot Rod could live with. He respected Lennox, could work with him, but Graham would be easier to get along with.

"I take it everything's running smoothly there?" Morshower asked.

"Fine, sir," Hot Rod said. "And we've heard from Optimus' team. They'll be landing around 1000 hours."

"How did the hunt go?" Morshower said.

"I don't have all the details, sir," Hot Rod said.

"Contact me when they land," Morshower said.

"Will do, sir," Hot Rod said.

The human technicians cut the transmission while Graham stared up at Rodimus.

"Taking Prime lessons from Optimus?" Graham said, stifling a grin.

"No," Hot Rod said. "I don't want a lecture on protocol, so I might as well do things the way they're expected."

The young mech walked from the operations center outside, Graham following.

"So how's it feel to be *the* Prime for once?" Graham asked.

"I'm only in charge 'till Optimus gets here," Hot Rod said. "So don't go giving anyone ideas."

"Me? Ideas?" Graham said. "Look, it wasn't my idea to paintball Skids and Mudflap that time. . .blame it on Epps. And you didn't hear that from me."

"No, but I can recall a couple of incidents where you had what you called 'brilliant' ideas that backfired," Hot Rod said.

"I didn't get caught, did I?" Graham said. "No one knows you were involved, either, so I'd say they were brilliant."

"Perceptor won't let me in the lab without what he calls 'adult supervision,'" Hot Rod said. "How embarrassing is that?"

"A small price to pay," Graham said. "You could use a little more fun in your life. Jazz has told me some stories about the chaos you and Springer used to cause. . ."

"Like Jazz is so mature," Hot Rod said. "Take last night for instance."

"Still confined to quarters?"

"For now," Hot Rod said.

"Anything else I need to know before the teams return?" Graham said.

"Not really," Hot Rod said. "Wait--do you know about Arcee?"

"I know she's expecting," Graham said.

"That's all?"

Graham nodded.

"She's carrying twins," Hot Rod said. "She's been pulled off the active duty roster until she births them."

"Twins?" Graham said, stopping.

"Yes, twins," Hot Rod said.

"May I ask about the. . .father?" Graham said.

"Sunstreaker."

Graham paled but recovered quickly.

"I take it nobody's told Lennox?" Hot Rod said.

"No," Graham said.

Hot Rod grinned. He'd be sure either Ironhide or Optimus had to tell the human NEST commander. They would get to explain the nature of Cybertronian reproduction to the humans.

-----

Weariness pervaded every inch of Optimus Prime's frame. He was headed to the med bay, cradling his left arm, which was, for lack of a better word, mangled. He'd managed to transform to get on the plane and again once he was back on the ground at Diego Garcia, and now he needed medical attention. His energon reserves were low and so was his self-confidence.

They'd fought the same Decepticons Rodimus and his team had faced days before, the combat unit known as the Combaticons. His own team had fared barely better than Rodimus, although their mission had been extermination, not retrieval. No one had died, but the Decepticons had managed another retreat.

Now, the Autobot leader struggled to remain standing as he turned into the med bay. Ratchet and Kup were suddenly by his side, helping him to a berth.

"You should have called for help," Ratchet admonished, taking stock of his leader's injuries. Kup stood back, watching.

"Didn't. . .didn't need it," Optimus muttered.

"The Pit you don't," Ratchet said. "That arm's going to have to come off. And your chest is damaged. What happened--did you get stepped on by something big?"

Optimus suddenly was suddenly looking at the floor.

"..Now." Ratchet said.

"Thrown. Then stepped on," Optimus said.

Ratchet spared his leader a glance as he turned to grab instruments he needed.

"Before you do anything, I must speak with Rodimus," Optimus said.

"Like hell you will," Ratchet said. "You need repairs now. Are you feeling weak? Vision dimming?"

Optimus managed a feeble nod.

"Your spark chamber is damaged," Ratchet said.

Optimus didn't respond, as his optics dimmed momentarily as he commed Rodimus. Seconds later, the other Prime came skidding to a halt inside the med bay.

"What is it. . ." Hot Rod stopped when he saw Ratchet disconnecting Optimus' damaged arm from his body.

"Even though he doesn't look like it, he's badly damaged," Ratchet said.

"I'm putting you in charge," Optimus said.

"Prowl. . ."

"Do not argue with me Rodimus," Optimus said, scowling at the younger Prime with a mixture of pain and anger.

Ratchet then shoved Optimus back on the berth.

"I can't work on you with that. . .thing still inside you," the medic said. "It's gotta go."

"Then Rodimus will carry the Matrix temporarily," Optimus said.

Ratchet turned to Kup, who was looking more than a little confused. "Out. Now."

The ancient mech stood his ground until Ratchet grabbed him and tossed him out of the med bay. Once back inside, Ratchet watched Optimus hand the artifact called the Matrix to his counterpart. For a second, Rodimus stood, staring down at the glowing thing in his hand before parting his chest armor and nestling it inside his own body. Satisfied, Optimus settled back on the berth, ready for Ratchet to work on him.

"Get Red down here now," Ratchet said.

Hot Rod nodded, left the med bay, giving Optimus a glance as he did. Once outside, he found Kup waiting for him.

"What was that all about?" Kup asked.

"Nothing, Kup. I can't talk about it now," Hot Rod said.

"Lad. . ."

"Kup, I've gotta go. I'm sorry," Hot Rod said.

Kup watched him walk away, saddened.


	22. Chapter 22

Precipitous

Part 22-Grasp

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ironhide heard the yelling outside the Autobot hangar, recognized the voices, surprised *they* would raise their voices at each other. He walked outside, greeted first by the sight of Lennox and Graham standing almost nose to nose in an uncharacteristic display of aggression. The weapons specialist also noticed Skids and Mudflap standing at a respectable distance from the arguing humans, watching with fascination.

"I'm not leaving with Rodimus in charge," Lennox said. "Now get out of the way so I can see if this is what Optimus actually wanted. . ."

"Gen. Morshower already approved it and you've been ordered home on leave," Graham said.

"I don't think so," Lennox said. "Rodimus isn't fit to lead NEST. You know it too."

"Sir, in this case, I disagree," Graham said.

Lennox raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms, backing off. He had to hear his second in command's reasoning.

"You disagree? Rodimus is a. . .a kid. He's a fighter, but he's no leader. And I cannot, in good conscience, leave him half in charge of *my* outfit," Lennox said. "Why do you think this is a good idea?"

"Sir, I never said it was a good idea to leave Rodimus in charge," Graham said. "But like it or not, Optimus Prime wants. . ."

Suddenly, the sun was blocked out by the looming shape of Ironhide. Both humans looked upward at the Autobot.

"Enough," Ironhide said.

"Ironhide, I need to. . ." Lennox started.

"You have a plane to catch," Ironhide said. "This place is not your concern for the next two weeks. And Graham is right--Optimus has his reasons for putting Rodimus in charge."

Lennox sighed, suitably cowed by the appearance of his friend. "Speaking of Optimus, how is he?"

"The last I heard, Ratchet and Red Alert were still working on him," Ironhide said.

"I know he took some heavy damage. . ."

"He will recover," Ironhide said.

"How can you be so sure?" Lennox said.

Ironhide didn't get a chance to answer as Epps came running up, grabbing Lennox by the arm.

"I sure hope you packed," he said. "I've been looking all over for you. C'mon, we're gonna miss our plane. . ."

-----

Past time for shift to be over, but Ratchet was just now finishing up the repairs on Optimus Prime. The crazy fragger would live, but life temporarily would not be very pleasant, Ratchet reflected. He reached up to his head, disconnecting a cable that ran from himself to Optimus's own helm. The hardline connection now broken, he was satisfied with his work. He'd used the connection to power down many of his leader's systems--anything that had nothing to do with rest and repair. And of course, there had been a disagreement. One-sided on Optimus' part, but the medic had put his leader down hard. He'd be out 12 hours at least.

Red Alert met his optics.

"What?" Ratchet asked.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you about how stubborn Prime is," she said.

Ratchet allowed himself a tired smile. "Don't apologize," he said.

"Do you want me to stay with him a while?" Red Alert said.

"No," Ratchet said. "Get a little rest, then get yourself back up to the Xantium to keep an eye on Wheeljack. I can keep an eye on Prime. If I need anything, I can always call Perceptor."

Red Alert nodded, leaving the med bay, leaving Ratchet to stand vigil over his leader.

-----

Prowl stood in Optimus Prime's office, staring down the Autobot sitting in Prime's place. Rodimus was being stubborn. And the second in command could be just as stubborn. He had patience and not to mention years of experience in dealing with an obstinate Prime. Prowl could feel the stress rolling off Rodimus, could see it in his frame. Logic, in this situation, dictated a direct approach. Direct but not blunt. Calm and logical. Rational. However, Prowl's experience with Rodimus as Prime and before he was elevated to that rank showed the young mech's response would be anything but logical when confronted. Except sometimes, like now, the odds dictated otherwise. Prowl was willing to give Rodimus the benefit of the doubt and go from there. If the situation degraded to a yelling match, he'd bring in reinforcements.

"Rodimus, I know I'm not supposed to be here right now, but I am the second in command of the Autobot forces. Forces you now command, albeit temporarily," Prowl said. "I'm here to help. It's my job."

Rodimus said nothing, only continued to stare at Prowl, who stared back. A standoff. Lovely. Maybe Optimus had blown a processor in leaving Rodimus in charge, but he was their Prime. He had to follow orders. He would follow orders, even if he didn't totally agree, like now, but he understood Optimus' logic. If it could be called that, Prowl thought wryly. Rodimus needed to learn to lead, would only do so by leading. And as second in command, Prowl could offer his experience and try and lessen the burden of leadership. His duty and honor would let him do no less. He would do so out of loyalty, respect and friendship to Optimus. Despite their differences, Prowl owed Rodimus no less.

"I'm not here to tell you how to run things," Prowl said. "You're going to have to figure that out on your own. You do have potential, Rodimus, just don't sell yourself short. Optimus left you in charge. Not me. That has to mean something to you, doesn't it?"

"Prowl, you're supposed to be off duty," Hot Rod said. "Ratchet will kill us both if he finds out you're here. . ."

Prowl allowed himself a small smile at Rodimus' response.

"I'm not worried about Ratchet," he said.

"Fine then," Hot Rod said. "Get to work."

-----

2357. Hot Rod stood, walked out of Optimus' office, not giving it a second thought as he left. The day was never going to end, wasn't over yet. He'd spent the afternoon suffering through another teleconference with Morshower, although Graham was there beside him, making the long talk with the general more tolerable. That was followed by Perceptor's discovery of missing flammable chemicals from the lab and the the spectacle of the scientist snapping at Sideswipe in ops. Snapping was an understatement. Sideswipe pinned to the wall by Perceptor was a sight the young Prime would not soon forget. That sight was accompanied by accusations that the silver twin was the one filching various supplies for pranks. However, it somehow came out in the middle of everything that Tracks had stolen the supplies, trying to pin it on the twins in yet another prank war gone wrong.

Tracks was now serving time in the Xantium's brig with Skids and Mudflap as guards. Ironhide had helpfully offered their services, saying it would help build character and help along their training while at the same time giving them more responsibility.

Now, crises averted momentarily, Hot Rod had one more thing to do before turning in for the night. He entered the med bay, startled by the sight of Optimus Prime's condition. His right arm was missing, as as was the armor covering the right half of his chest, bare to his protoform, leaving his spark exposed.

"He's quite all right," Ratchet said. "If that alleviates your fears."

"Not much," Hot Rod said.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Ratchet said. "Make no mistake--his injuries were life-threatening, but he will recover. In the morning I will be better able to give you a time table for his recovery, but now, even I need rest."

"You're leaving him alone?" Hot Rod said.

"Hardly," Ratchet said. "Perceptor is going to stay with him a while, but he's still in the lab and he isn't responding to my comm. If you don't mind waiting here until I come back, I'll go get Perceptor."

"Not a problem," Hot Rod said.

Ratchet left the med bay, leaving him alone with Optimus. Hot Rod stared down at the Autobot leader's prone form, optics then straying to the monitors attached to him. All the readouts were within normal operating parameters. Hot Rod knew that much.

Abruptly, his attention was focused back on Optimus when he heard the other mech groan, reaching blindly for something with his remaining arm. Hot Rod reached out, grabbing Optimus' hand.

"It's all right," he said.

"Rodimus. . ." Optimus said.

"You should be resting," Hot Rod said.

"I know," Optimus said. "But I could feel the presence of the Matrix. . .and through it, you. It's strange, not having it within me. . ."

"You can have it back," Hot Rod said. "But I don't think Ratchet would be very happy with me."

"No," Optimus said. "But I am glad you are here. I was dreaming. . .I was in a dark place, and I could not return. . ."

"You're safe," Hot Rod said, giving Optimus' had a squeeze.

-----

One cube of high grade wouldn't hurt. Just what the medic ordered, Ratched reflected as he polished off the container Perceptor had offered. He'd been gone from the med bay exactly 25.7899 minutes. He needed his rest and Perceptor needed to get his aft down to the med bay. Not that he didn't trust Rodimus, but the young Prime needed his rest as well. Ratchet knew he hadn't recharged in almost two days and fully intended to make sure he had at least a few hours before his next full demanding day as Autobot leader.

"Perceptor, we really need to. . ." Ratchet said.

"Devote our attention to our assigned duties," the scientist finished. "I am well aware I need to be in the med bay."

He stood, waiting for Ratchet to join him as he started on his way down the corridor.

"I hear Optimus incurred his injuries in a rather unconventional fashion," Perceptor said.

"He was thrown and stepped on by Bruticus," Ratchet said. "Our beloved Prime decided he would take him on all by himself."

"I believe he has a grossly underdeveloped ability to estimate odds," Perceptor offered. "That or he does not understand the definition of the word 'outnumbered.'"

Ratchet smiled at Perceptor. "Or he takes self-sacrifice too seriously," the medic said. "He's proved that already."

"Yes," Perceptor said. "Has Rodimus been informed of Optimus' relationship to the Matrix of Leadership?"

"Unknown," Ratchet said as they started to turn inside the med bay but he stopped short, putting out a hand to halt Perceptor at the same time. Perceptor followed Ratchet's gaze, smiled at the sight before them. Rodimus had taken up Ratchet's customary perch on the stool beside Optimus' berth, but the young Prime was in recharge, hunched over Prime, head resting on his shoulder, fingers laced with Optimus'.

"Should I wake him?" Perceptor asked.

"No," Ratchet said. "Leave them be."


	23. Chapter 23

Precipitous

Part 22-Disclosure

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet wasn't surprised to see Rodimus gone from the med bay when he arrived for his shift that morning. He was, however, surprised to see Perceptor passed out at his desk. The medic roused the scientist, shooed him from the med bay, turning his attention to the matters of the day. First, he checked the monitors hooked up to Prime--all read as they should. Second was checking up on Kup. Luckily, he knew exactly where to find him, or more to the point, who to contact to bring him to the med bay. Ratchet commed Springer, who arrived five minutes later with a struggling Kup.

"Want me to stick around?" Springer asked as he shoved Kup toward an empty berth.

"No," Ratchet said, turning his attention to the ancient Autobot giving him a look that should've made him quake in fear. Springer took the hint, walking from the med bay, sparing his recharging leader a glance as he passed.

"How's Prime?" Kup asked, trying to look past Ratchet at the recovering Autobot leader.

"Better," Ratchet said. "Now hold still and let me run a few scans. . ."

Kup sighed, settling in for the barrage of tests which took less time than expected.

"You're free to go," Ratchet said, turning to put his instruments away.

"What?" Kup said. "That's it? No threats?"

"If you like, I could make a few," Ratchet said, raising an optic ridge.

"It's just not like you. . ." Kup said.

"You never listen anyway, so what's the point?" Ratchet said.

"Kup, I have a busy day ahead of me, and so do you. I'm sure you have questions that need answered, and you've waited long enough. . ." Ratchet said.

"I know it'll be a while before I can speak with Optimus," Kup said.

Given Kup's agitation since his arrival, and confusion over the exchange he'd witnessed between Optimus and Rodimus the day before, Ratchet decided a tiny breach in medical etiquette and protocol was needed.

"When Optimus wakes, I'll let you know," Ratchet said. "I'll give you a few minutes if he's feeling up to it."

"Thanks," Kup said, standing.

"One more thing before you go," Ratchet said. "Don't push Rodi. . .Hot Rod too hard," he said.

"Has something happened?" Kup asked.

"No. . ." Ratchet said, hesitating. "He's just been under a lot of stress lately. The past few days have been no exception. The two of you do need to talk, but for once Kup, take my advice and do not push him. Please."

Kup frowned. "All right," he said. "So what am I supposed to do now?"

-----

The morning briefing was over. Graham helped keep it mercifully short, for which Hot Rod was thankful. Now he was on his way to the rec room to get some energon before meeting with Prowl and Jazz to go over the duty assignments. He had a container of energon in one hand and a data pad in the other, walking down the corridor when Springer caught up with him.

"Rodi, where the hell have you been?" he asked. "I've been looking all over for you. Where were you last night?"

Hot Rod kept walking, ignoring the questions.

"C'mon, don't ignore me," Springer said, falling into step beside his friend. "Did you stay last night with Red?"

Hot Rod stopped. "Hardly," he said. "What's the big deal anyway?"

"You didn't have to spend half the night listing to Kup rant about _you_," Springer said. "He thinks you're avoiding him, and I'm starting to think so too."

"I'm not," Hot Rod said. "I've been busy."

"That's no excuse," Springer said, grabbing Hot Rod by the arm.

"Rodi, you need to go talk to him," he said. "C'mon. . ."

Hot Rod yanked his arm from Springer's grasp.

"I'll talk to Kup when I'm ready," he said.

"He deserves an explanation," Springer said. "Or are you so taken with being in charge you don't think Kup deserves that much?"

It took every shred of control Hot Rod had in his body to not hit Springer or raise his voice.

"Don't think for a second I like the position I'm in," Hot Rod said. "A position I did not choose, something I never wanted. . ."

Springer didn't back down.

"I know," he said. "But you can't run away from it, can't change it. What's done is done."

"Don't remind me," Hot Rod said.

Springer put his hand's on his friend's shoulders.

"Rodi, I'm sorry for pushing the issue, but please. . ." he said. "I know things haven't been easy for you since we came here, but isn't it better than being back out there?"

Hot Rod nodded.

"Besides, we both have our reasons for sticking around, don't we?" Springer said. "Ironhide would kick my aft if I even mentioned leaving. It's a good thing we've got here, Rodi, even if it doesn't seem like it now. And what about Optimus? Are you just going to walk away? It's not like you to give up on something you want, or at least try until you either fly or crash and burn."

"I'm not walking away," Hot Rod said.

Springer smiled, touched his helm to Hot Rod's.

"Good," he said.

-----

More than an hour of wrangling passed before Prowl was satisfied with the duty roster and Hot Rod had a full grasp of just how the second in command worked out the details of planning where and when everyone worked. Hot Rod also noticed Jazz's uncharacteristic silence during the meeting, which didn't seem to faze Prowl. Unusual, but he filed it away for later reference. Hot Rod stood to leave, but Jazz finally spoke up.

"Kup dropped by my office earlier, wanting to know what he's supposed to with himself since he has medical clearance for active duty," Jazz said. "What would you like me to tell him?"

"Give him to Ironhide," Hot Rod said. "It won't hurt the old-timer to get run through a few training exercises."

Jazz grinned at that. "I'm sure Ironhide will oblige," he said. "I might even join in for old time's sake."

"Have fun," Hot Rod said. He turned his attention to Prowl. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Not at the moment," Prowl said.

-----

Hot Rod sat on his favorite stretch of beach. The sound of waves crashing on the shore was a welcome distraction from duty. Another long afternoon had dragged on, broken only by a tiff in ops by Skids and Mudflap and the special ops briefing, which had featured no silence from Jazz because he was the one running the meeting, but he did keep shooting glances at Sideswipe and Prowl. Prowl hadn't been oblivious this time, and Sideswipe had been down right interested in the briefing, more than usual. Sunstreaker had actually paid attention and Ironhide--the less said the better.

Now, he was alone, thankful to have a little time to himself. He felt a little guilty, taking himself away from where he might be needed, but if he didn't escape for a while, he knew he'd go crazy. Hot Rod promised himself a few more minutes, then he'd head back, check on things, then go see if Optimus was awake.

Now, though, off in the distance, he heard an unfamiliar engine, turned around, watching as one of the silver NEST Hummers pulled off the road and onto the beach. Hot Rod frowned, thinking one of the humans had come to find him, but the Hummer transformed.

Hot Rod stood, found himself engulfed in a hug from Kup.

"It's good to see you, old-timer," Hot Rod said.

"Lad, I'm happy to see you, too," Kup said, holding the younger Autobot at arm's length, sweeping his optics over his frame.

Hot Rod gave his friend a quizzical look. "What?" he asked.

"Lad, somethin's different about you. . ." Kup said. "Nothing I can see, but I sense it. Everything all right?"

Hot Rod held back a sigh. He couldn't hide the truth from Kup.

"Kup, you better sit down," he said.

Kup raised an optic ridge in question, but did as he was told. Hot Rod sat down beside him, staring out at the ocean a few moments before he spoke. "Kup. . .there's something you need to know," Hot Rod said. "I know you probably have questions. . .like about what happened in the med bay yesterday with Optimus. . ."

"It's crossed my mind more than once, lad" Kup said. "Prime called you Rodimus and if I heard right, he also said you were in charge."

"I am in charge," Hot Rod said.

"Has Prime blown his processor?" Kup asked.

"I wish," Hot Rod said, showing a brief glimmer of his old humor. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. "Kup, I'm no longer known as Hot Rod. They call me Rodimus Prime now."

"Rodimus Prime?" Kup asked. "What?"

"I'm a Prime," Hot Rod said. "Like Optimus."


	24. Chapter 24

Precipitous

Part 24-React

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Kup listened as it all came tumbling out--everything from what had happened the fateful day the Wreckers arrived on Earth to the moment Hot Rod had come to his and Wheeljack's rescue days before. Rodimus, he corrected himself, but he couldn't come to think of Hot Rod as anything but Hot Rod.

He was still sitting beside Hot Rod, the lad silent now, letting him process everything he'd heard. Kup still couldn't believe it, but he knew it was true. Every word. He could see the lad was struggling with his new lot in life, and who wouldn't? Despite Hot Rod's feelings about being a Prime, Kup felt a swell of pride and affection for the younger mech. He'd gone from being a near-washout to Prime.

Kup placed a weathered hand on Hot Rod's shoulder.

"Lad, I'm proud of you," he said. "Prime. Who would've thought?"

"Primus has a sick sense of humor," Hot Rod offered.

Kup snorted. "You haven't lost yours, I see," he said. "How's Optimus felt about all this--not being the only Prime?"

"Lectured me repeatedly about the sacred duty of a Prime, among other things," Hot Rod said.

"He hasn't made it easy, has he?" Kup asked.

"How could he?" Hot Rod said. "There isn't a manual for how to deal with this situation."

"No, but it sounds like Prime needs a lecture or two himself," Kup said. "I'm not afraid to do it, either."

Hot Rod grinned. "Can I be there when you do?"

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Kup said. "I think. . ."

He suddenly noticed a blank look in Hot Rod's optics.

"What is it?" Kup asked.

"Ratchet," Hot Rod said. "Optimus is awake. He's asking for us both."

-----

Optimus was sitting up, trying to ignore Ratchet, who was examining his right shoulder. He could feel Ratchet's hands working on the wrecked shoulder joint, but he felt no pain. However, having his pain receptors turned off didn't keep him from jumping or squirming around as the medic worked.

"Hold still or I'm going to knock you out," Ratchet said.

"I can still feel what you're doing," Optimus said.

"Just because you feel no pain doesn't mean you still can't receive sensory feedback," Ratchet said. "Sensation is good. It means I might be able to reattach your arm sooner than I thought, except your armor is still going to have to grow back on its own. I can try a few things to speed up the process, but none of them are pleasant. . ."

The sound of footsteps turned Optimus' attention from the medic to see who was coming to the med bay.

Ratchet noticed Optimus' optics light up when the Autobot leader saw Rodimus and Kup, but he wasn't willing to place any bets on who piqued Prime's interest. Rodimus maybe. If it was, hopefully a good sign, the medic reflected. Trust between the two Primes would go a long way in helping their relationship and his own sanity.

"I'll be in my office if you need me," Ratchet said, nodding at Kup and Rodimus. He smiled sweetly at Optimus when he received a glare from his leader.

"The only thing I need is out of here," Optimus muttered once he was sure Ratchet was out of hearing.

"I heard that," Ratchet shouted from his office.

Optimus ignored the medic. "Kup, you wanted to speak with me?"

The ancient Autobot glanced from Optimus to Hot Rod and back. He did want to talk with Optimus, but some of what he needed to say didn't need to be said in front of Hot Rod, especially after everything he'd heard earlier that evening.

"Yeah--just wanted to know what I'm supposed to do now I've been cleared for active duty," Kup said.

"If I were able, I would go over everything you need to know about our relationship with NEST. Since I am not, I will defer to Rodimus for the time being regarding your duties," Optimus said. "He is in charge. Not I."

Hot Rod suddenly found himself under the scrutiny of two sets of optics.

"Well, lad?" Kup asked, torn between amusement and amazement at the look on Hot Rod's face. The young mech's optics blazed with fury for a few seconds, and Kup could see it could take all of Hot Rod's self control to keep from lashing out at Optimus. Much to his credit, he didn't.

"I'll talk with Prowl in the morning," Hot Rod said. "See if he has any suggestions. If not, you can do what you did today--train with Ironhide and Jazz."

"Sounds good," Kup said. "C'mon lad, let's not keep Optimus from his rest."

He placed a hand on Hot Rod's shoulder, squeezed hard enough to let him know he meant business, steering him from the med bay. Once outside, he let go.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" Kup asked.

"What?" Hot Rod said.

"All that anger over a simple decision," Kup said. "And that's not the first time, is it? How long has this been going on?"

Hot Rod crossed his arms, indignant.

"Lad, I'm not gonna go running back to Prime and tell him everything you say," Kup said. "This is just between us."

"I think I've done enough talking for one night," Hot Rod said. "I still have work to do. . ."

"Don't think a fancy new name and rank are going to have any effect on me," Kup said. "You may be a Prime and I respect that, but don't go hiding behind it when it's convenient. I know you and I can tell when something's bothering you."

Hot Rod frowned, but gave in. Kup was right.

"_He's_ what's bothering me," Hot Rod said. "Always taking jabs at me like that--it's almost like he doesn't think I can do his job. But that's just it--I can't do _his_ job. I'm not Optimus, and I never will be. I might be a Prime, but I'll never be what everyone expects me to be."

Kup raised an optic ridge. This was interesting. He'd never seen Hot Rod's self-confidence waning so much. Could be good or bad, depending on how things turned out in the end. His new situation could either help him grow and mature or break him.

"Lad, I don't think anyone expects you to be like Optimus. . ."

The look on Hot Rod's face suggested otherwise, but Kup ignored it.

"Even Optimus had problems in the beginning," Kup said. "He still does. No one is perfect, and believe me, when he became Prime, he was far from it. Still is, but he learned from experience. You will too."

"Then maybe someone needs to remind him of that," Hot Rod said.

Kup said nothing, only placed a hand on his friend shoulder.

Believe me, I will, he thought.

-----

2330. Well past time to be off duty, but Prowl was working late to catch up, trying to make up for lost time from both med bay stays. He was also taking advantage of Optimus' current tenure in Ratchet's domain. With Prime laid up, it meant one less Autobot showing up in his office telling him he was working too hard. Somebody had to, Prowl reflected. Not that anyone else on base shirked duty, but he was dedicated to his job and his place as second in command of the Autobot forces. He was also dedicated to his Prime and the holder of that rank, even if it was Rodimus. Hard work on his part at the moment meant one less thing Rodimus would have to deal with, but in the back of Prowl's mind, he remembered the countless warnings received from Optimus and Jazz. Warnings that reminded him that if he worked himself too hard, they would have to work harder to pick up his slack if he blew his processor.

Prowl ignored his conscience as he plugged along, signing the necessary requisitions that would give Perceptor his lab, allowing himself a smile as he did so. He felt something bordering on quiet glee as he thought about Ratchet's future reaction. Perceptor plus lab and Wheeljack's eventual inclusion meant explosions and giving Ratchet something to do besides fix combat injuries. Things that hopefully involved research as well as spending time with his friends instead of holed up inside the med bay.

The tactician didn't look up as he heard familiar footsteps, felt and heard the thunk of Sideswipe's aft as he sat down on the corner of his desk.

"Whatcha smiling at, Prowlie?" Sideswipe asked.

"Nothing," Prowl said.

"Uh huh," Sideswipe said, snatching the data pad out of his hands. Optics widened as he read the screen, handed it back. "Does Optimus know about this?"

"He was supposed to sign this himself, but because he's in the med bay, he can't," Prowl said.

"Does Rodimus know?"

"He does," Prowl said. "And why do you care?"

"Did it occur to anyone that the presence of a full-fledged lab on base might be a bad idea?" Sideswipe said. "Like don't want to blow up the humans or anything. Think of the opportunities for bad behavior--like bots swiping chemicals, Wheeljack's inventions. . ."

"Sideswipe, since when did you become the voice of logic?" Prowl asked.

"Since you aren't," Sideswipe said. "C'mon, Prowlie, you need a break. You've only just gotten out of the med bay, and. . ."

Suddenly, Sideswipe stopped talking and Prowl felt a new sensation on one of his door wings. A sensation that wasn't unpleasant, but completely unexpected and unacceptable.

"Remove your hand from my door wing or I will be forced to take action I will not regret," Prowl said, optics latched to the data pad in his hands.

"Ratch'll thank me for giving you something to do besides work," Sideswipe said, continuing to run his hand down the underside of Prowl's left door.

"Sideswipe. . ."

"Prowlie, you need a break. Come get some energon with me," Sideswipe said. "When was the last time you refueled or recharged?"

-----

Kup started out at the ocean, watching waves lap against the shore, thinking. Hot Rod a Prime. He was proud of the lad, more than he could say, yet angered by it at the same time. It was unfair of others to compare him to Optimus, to have unreasonable expectations. Maybe that was it though, what was expected of Hot Rod now? And just how was Optimus treating Hot Rod? He'd get to the bottom of it and everything else nobody was talking about.

Like the Matrix. Hot Rod had it now, did he? Kup knew damn well from the stories just what the Matrix was, and what it was for. What of the Allspark? The humans and their relationship to the Autobots on Earth? Did they expect them to just be a fighting force and not allow them to go on with their lives? The Decepticons--where was Megatron? All questions that needed answers. Kup knew he'd get them, he just needed to be patient.

-----


	25. Chapter 25

Precipitous

Chapter 25-Accost

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Springer stared at the wall, unable to fall into recharge. He had a lot on his mind--everything from the Xantium's current status to how well Kup was going to take hearing he was involved with Ironhide. How Hot Rod was holding up was also floating around in his processor. Those thoughts dissipated momentarily as he felt Ironhide stir.

"How's Rodi?" Ironhide asked.

No inquiry as to what he was thinking about, direct and to the point as always. Am I so easy to read, Springer thought.

Ironhide felt Springer shrug. Hard to do considering he had his arms wrapped around his bunkmate.

"Haven't talked to him since this morning," Springer answered.

"So you don't know if he's talked to Kup," Ironhide asked.

"No," Springer said.

"And you haven't either," Ironhide said. "It's not like you to procrastinate."

Springer snorted.

"I know I'm going to have to tell him sooner or later," he said. "And what about you--afraid he won't approve?"

"Kup will have to deal with it," Ironhide said, nibbling at Springer's neck. "Speaking of relationships, has Rodi said anything about Optimus?"

"'Hide, don't pry," Springer said.

"I'm not," Ironhide said. "I just think Optimus needs help with his stubbornness toward a relationship with Rodi. They're both Primes. It makes sense, only, of course, Optimus doesn't see it. Or he does and he won't admit it."

"And you think you can 'help' Optimus?" Springer asked.

"Maybe," Ironhide said. "But perhaps I've taken the wrong approach toward trying to get Optimus to see the light. . ."

"'Hide," Springer cautioned.

"How do you think Rodi would feel about helping Optimus bring about the next generation of Primes?" Ironhide said.

The elbow in his chest ended the discussion.

-----

The morning briefing was almost over. Five more minutes and it was on to the weekly officers' meeting. Hot Rod was counting down the minutes, ready to bolt. Graham was standing up on the catwalk, going over their supply needs. The young Autobot was half-listening when Morshower suddenly switched gears.

". . .I'm going on vacation, so starting tomorrow you'll be dealing with National Security Advisor Theodore Galloway for the next week," Morshower said.

"Sir?" Hot Rod said. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'm going on vacation," Morshower said. "I'm sorry to say you'll be dealing with Galloway until I get back. Now, if that'll be all. . ."

"Yes sir," Graham said, ending the briefing. His eyes met Hot Rod's optics. Neither said anything, but the look said it all. The next week was not going to be pleasant.

Graham climbed down, walked with Hot Rod out of the communications hangar toward the Autobot living quarters.

"At least he's not coming here," he said.

"Doesn't matter," Hot Rod said.

"He has been easier to deal with since Egypt," Graham said.

"He's still a pain in the aft," Hot Rod said.

"Maybe Prowl will take your place for the briefing?" Graham offered.

"Not likely," Hot Rod said. "He can't stand him either. Besides, I wouldn't ask him to. It's not fair. I'm Prime."

-----

The officers' meeting went well until it came time for Ratchet's report. Especially the part about the operational status of various mechs recently injured in combat. Kup hadn't paid much attention until Arcee's name came up. Not much was said--only that her current condition was nominal, considering circumstances and though she was removed from combat duty, she had been cleared for helping with training and monitor duty as long as she didn't push herself too hard.

Hot Rod ignored the ancient mech until the meeting was over, then he found himself dragged out into the corridor.

"Anything else going on around here I should know about?" Kup said as Hot Rod tried to head to the rec room for energon.

"Nope," Hot Rod said.

Kup stopped him.

"There's only a couple of reasons why a femme like Arcee'd be pulled off combat duty," Kup said. "Either she's been insubordinate, but since she's not in the brig, that leaves one other option."

Kup gave Hot Rod a sidelong glance. He didn't say anything, just kept walking. Kup stopped, put a hand on his shoulder.

"Lad, is there something you're not telling me?" he asked.

Hot Rod gave him a strange look.

"About what?"

"Arcee," Kup said. "She's carrying, isn't she?"

Hot Rod sighed.

"Yes," he said.

Kup was staring at him, arms crossed, one optic ridge raised questioningly.

"What?" Hot Rod said, glaring back. Then the lights went on. "No. It was not me."

He started on his way again, waiting for Kup to catch up.

"Why does everyone think it was me?" he muttered.

"Springer then?" Kup said.

"Again, no," Hot Rod said

"Then who?" Kup said.

"Ask Arcee," Hot Rod said. "You haven't talked to her yet."

-----

Optimus Prime sat propped up on his berth in the med bay, reading. Ratchet had finally supplied reading material that had nothing to do with work.

The data pad in his hand was barely keeping his interest, however. His optics kept straying to Ratchet's office, where the medic was having a private conversation with Sideswipe. The door was closed and the windows were soundproof, ensuring he wouldn't be able to hear what was being said, except Ratchet's expression and body language spoke volumes. Tense, and if Optimus was reading him right, a little ill, too.

As if the medic could sense he was being watched, his optics met Optimus' for a second, forcing the Autobot leader's attention back to his data pad. A few moments later, the door to Ratchet's office opened.

"Thanks, Ratch," Sideswipe said. He walked out of the office, flashed Optimus a grin on his way out.

"I have no idea who he thinks he's going to find to work on his 'project' and if I find out who's willing to 'help' him. . ." Ratchet muttered.

Optimus noticed the medic's optics looked a little wild.

"What're you looking at?" Ratchet snapped. "You're too nosy for your own damn good, you know that? Ever heard of medic-patient confidentiality?"

He went quiet for a few seconds, pondering the conversation he'd just had, suddenly remembering there was a question he'd been meaning to put to his beloved leader.

"Arcee's current condition--did you suggest she find someone to procreate with or was that an order?" Ratchet said.

Optimus set down his data pad.

"I did not order Arcee to do anything of the sort," he said. "I didn't suggest it. Actually, she came to me with the idea. All I gave was my blessing."

That seemed to placate the medic. A little.

"So you haven't ordered anyone to get on with rebuilding our race?" Ratchet said.

"No I have not," Optimus said.

"And I don't have to worry about having to deal with more than one carrying Autobot right now?" Ratchet said. "Although the thought of *someone* settling down, starting a family of his own would do a lot of good. . .that kind of stability would go a long way in helping establish the idea that we are here to stay on this planet and are going to be more than just a fighting force to protect the humans."

The medic regarded his Prime thoughtfully, hoping he'd take the hint. Kup had said something interesting earlier that day about Primes--if the ancient mech remembered right, only two Primes or a Prime and a femme of Prime lineage could produce another Prime. Not that Ratchet wanted to find himself optic-deep in sparklings. It was something he wanted Optimus to consider for the future.

"Gen. Morshower knows we are here to stay," Optimus said. "And he has brought up the issue of our future more than once."

"Good," Ratchet said. "That's all I needed to hear."

-----

Graham walked across the tarmac, eyes glued to his clipboard, going over the list of supplies the Autobots needed to set up their science lab. Prowl had kindly forwarded him the e-mail that morning, much to his annoyance. Coming up with the normal supplies needed by both humans and Autobots was one thing, supplying a lab was another. And then there was Galloway to deal with in the morning. He knew his presence wasn't required during the morning teleconference with the Pentagon, but as acting NEST co-commander he wasn't going to leave Rodimus hanging. He'd be there, suffering along with the Autobot out of duty and friendship.

So engrossed in thought was the human he almost didn't notice the Autobot who was standing in his way. The blocked out sun and whirring of servos as the Autobot bent down to get a better look at him brought Graham back to his senses.

"Sir," Graham said. "Kup, correct?"

"I'm Kup," he said. "And you don't have to call me 'sir.' I may be old, experienced, and an officer, but I don't go by that type of formality. You must be Graham. Hot Rod mentioned you."

"Where I come from, and by my training, I've been taught to address a respected elder and officer as 'sir'," Graham said. "Rodimus has mentioned you more than once."

"All good I hope," Kup said.

"Mostly," Graham said.

"If he said anything bad, he was lyin'," Kup said. "Taught the lad everything he knows. . .most of it, anyway."

Graham fought back a grin.

"And even if he says I didn't, I'm the one that knocked any grain of sense he has into that thick processor," Kup said. "Me and Ultra Magnus."

"Rodimus has shared stories of his training," Graham said.

"The lad must like you if he's talked about that," Kup said. "I hope he counts you among his friends."

"Sir, Rodimus is my closest friend among the Autobots, well, he and Jazz," Graham said.

"I'm glad to hear it," Kup said. "C'mon. I need someone to fill me in on everything I don't know and I might as well start with you."


	26. Chapter 26

Precipitous

Part 26-Chat

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod considered turning around and walking back the way he'd come. The sound of grating metal and cursing made him keep going. Interest piqued, he walked inside the med bay anyway, instantly regretting it.

"...."

"It slipped," Ratchet muttered, complying, removing his hand from the edge of Optimus Prime's exposed spark. The medic placed his hands back on the parted halves of his leader's chest armor, yanking hard.

Nothing happened.

"Think really hard about closing your armor while I pull," Ratchet said. "If this doesn't work. . ."

Optimus frowned, but complied, concentrating on making his chest armor move while he tried to ignore Ratchet pulling and yanking on the parted halves of his chest. Again, nothing happened.

"That's it," Ratchet said, letting go and stepping away. "That right half is coming off. You're just going to have to be patient. Your body has to heal on its own. I can only do so much. You need rest and time to heal, especially after the trauma you've been through the past year. You're lucky to have a spark at all. And part of the reason you're having so much trouble with that shoulder and that side is because of what happened protecting Sam and in Egypt, if you need reminding. . ."

"I need no reminder of what happened," Optimus said. "I'd rather not remember."

"Then quit throwing yourself into the line of fire," Ratchet said. "Or was this last incident with Bruticus a tactical error?"

"No," Optimus said. "It was a diversion to allow the rest of my team to retreat."

"So you say," Ratchet said. "I'd think after all you've been through you'd want. . ."

:Silence, Ratchet: Optimus commed, noticing Hot Rod standing inside the med bay door.

Ratchet turned around, glanced at the young Prime, started working on Optimus' shoulder.

"My hand in your spark's probably the most action you've seen in a long time, isn't it?" Ratchet said, deciding to not let an opportunity to get his digs in slide by.

Optimus ignored the remark.

"Rodimus, what do you need?" he asked.

"Just dropped by to see how you are. . . " Hot Rod said.

"He's a pain in my aft, that's what," Ratchet said. "Come back later. I have work to do, and I bet you two would like to talk without me around."

Optimus glared at the medic, started to say something to Rodimus but he was already gone.

-----

Kup had many questions and Graham answered what he was allowed. He stuck to the standard new-to-Earth-Autobot briefing, which answered some of Kup's questions. Other inquiries he answered or avoided. Then there were the questions about Rodimus, Optimus, and the Matrix of Leadership.

"You humans were lucky with Megatron and the Allspark," Kup finally said. Graham gave him a panicked look.

"Don't look so surprised I know about that," Kup said. "I've hacked some of the classified files in the base computer. I wasn't head of security and intelligence for a whole planet for nothing. Who do you think trained most of the bots on this base? And the Matrix. . .at least it wasn't lost. . .it's more precious than the Allspark, but how would any of you know that?"

Graham finally regained enough of his wits to speak.

"The Matrix? It contains the knowledge from the Allspark, but. . ." he said.

"Lad, the Matrix is more important for many reasons," Kup said. "It wasn't just for powering sun harvesters. That came later, and it was foolish. Using something carrying the essence of Primus himself to destroy suns. . .that is, if you believe the old stories. Enough of that. I have one more question--how has Hot Rod handled all this?"

Graham considered the question before answering. He didn't want to betray his friend's trust, but he didn't want to avoid being honest with Kup.

"Becoming a Prime hasn't been easy for him or the others," Graham said. "But he's held up under the pressure. I think if you want to know anything more, you should talk to him."

"I will," Kup said.

-----

Hot Rod nodded at Perceptor as he walked into the med bay. The scientist set down his data pad, leaving the two Primes alone.

:If Prime gives you any difficulty, feel free to call me: Perceptor commed.

:I don't think he's in any condition to cause problems: Hot Rod said.

:You would be surprised: Perceptor replied.

"I assured Ratchet I didn't need a babysitter," Optimus said, watching Hot Rod sit down.

"I'm sure he doesn't see it that way," Hot Rod said.

"Not that I didn't enjoy Perceptor's company," Optimus said. "He was a welcome change from Ratchet. As are you."

Hot Rod raised an optic ridge.

"I'm sure you'd welcome the chaos-bringer himself if it meant a break from the monotony of this place," he said.

"Ratchet won't even let me go to my quarters to recuperate," Optimus said.

"Too many distractions," Hot Rod said. "Like worry and work."

"Are you insinuating that I do nothing but worry and work?" Optimus said.

"Being a Prime encompasses both," Hot Rod said. "It doesn't leave much time for yourself."

"No, it does not," Optimus said.

"How are you feeling?" Hot Rod asked, trying to change the subject.

"Better," Optimus said. "Still weak, but better. And if Ratchet isn't more careful rooting around where he doesn't belong. . . "

Hot Rod's optics strayed to the exposed half of the other Prime's spark.

"Ratchet was just doing his job," he said.

Optimus hmphed.

"He hasn't been through what I have, either," he said.

"I know you've seen a lot of combat over the past year, and having another Prime around. . ." Hot Rod said.

"That's not what I mean," Optimus said. "Ratchet fears I've come to depend in the Matrix too much, that it was sustaining my spark, but that is not the case. I do, however, share a connection with it. The Matrix saved my life."

"What do you mean?" Hot Rod said. "I know you found it in Egypt. . ."

Optimus hesitated before answering, reluctant to bring up the subject, but the issue was one that needed to be broached.

"I may have left out pertinent details regarding my part in the events leading up to and taking place in Egypt," Optimus said.

"Details? Like what?" Hot Rod asked.

"Certain details I have not shared with you, that I should have, but that can wait," Optimus said.

"If it's important, why have you been holding out?" Hot Rod said.

"I have my reasons," Optimus said.

"That isn't an answer," Hot Rod said. "I came down here to try and talk to you, see how you are and instead, I get the runaround. If you want me to leave, why don't you just say so?"

Optimus resisted the urge to frown, but instead, he kept his gaze calm and steady.

"If I wanted to be left alone, I'd call Perceptor," he said. "Actually, I don't mind having you here. How are things going? Anything interesting happen while I've been confined?"

Hot Rod crossed his arms, giving the other Prime an annoyed look.

"No asking about work," he said.

"I'm not," Optimus said.

"Not telling," Hot Rod said. "The base is still standing, the twins--both sets, haven't blown anything up, Kup's bored, and Springer and Ironhide haven't said a word to him yet about their relationship."

Optimus graced Hot Rod with a rare smile.

"How do you think he'll take it when they do?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Hot Rod said.

"Does he know about Arcee yet?" Optimus said.

"Yes, but not that it's twins and Sunstreaker is the sire," Hot Rod said. "Kup can find that out on his own."

"Kup and I have much to discuss once I'm out of here," Optimus said.

"You do," Hot Rod said. "And I should probably go. It's late, and you need to rest."

He stood, but Optimus reached out with his good arm, catching Hot Rod by the wrist.

"Stay a while," he said. "We don't have to talk. Just stay with me."


	27. Chapter 27

Precipitous

Part 27-Objection

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Prowl was jarred from recharge by an elbow to his midsection.

"Oops, sorry," his berth mate muttered.

"Sideswipe. . ."

"I know. I shouldn't be awake," Sideswipe said.

The tactician sighed, wondering for the millionth time why he'd said yes to Sideswipe's request when he'd shown up at his door earlier that night. A simple request it had been, too--Sideswipe had asked if he could stay the night with him because Sunstreaker had thrown him out of their quarters. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last, although it had been a very long time since Prowl had shared a berth with anyone, even Sideswipe and his need for a place to bunk for the night. It wasn't too bad, either, barring Sideswipe's restlessness.

The twins had always shared a mutual need for contact with others when they were apart, be the separation emotional or physical. Prowl didn't know if it was a trait of this particular set of twins, or sibling pairs in general, but Sideswipe had explained it several times, in his own unique fashion. And blast Sunny for being so damn emotional. Then again, impending fatherhood could do that to a mech.

"What are you thinking?" Sideswipe suddenly asked.

"Nothing" Prowl said.

"You're always thinking," Sideswipe said. "I know the only time you aren't is maybe when you're in recharge and definitely not when you're unconscious from a processor glitch."

"Am I so predictable?" Prowl said.

"I wouldn't call it predictable," Sideswipe said. "More like reliable."

Prowl considered that a moment. Sideswipe usually struck him speechless with the audacity of his pranks or smart remarks, or, on rarer occasions, like now, with his honesty.

"Reliable? Really?" the tactician asked.

"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "You're not predictable. Ratchet is. Barring that processor glitch of yours, you're stable, and that's a good thing--so you're reliable. Even though you can be a hard-ass as the humans say, we all know we can count on you. How's that for an explanation?"

"Rambling, but effective," Prowl said. "Sideswipe, not that I don't enjoy talking to you, but it's the middle of the night, and I have a meeting I do not want to attend in the morning, but I will be at the morning briefing to lend Rodimus moral support. No one should have to face someone like Galloway alone."

Sideswipe snorted.

"He won't be alone," he said. "He'll have Graham and the rest of the humans with him."

"It's not the same," Prowl said.

"Is Jazz going to be there?" Sideswipe asked.

"Yes, because I might need backup," Prowl said. "Why?"

"No reason," Sideswipe said. "Hey--have you given anymore thought to that thing I asked you about?"

"Which thing?" Prowl asked.

"The thing about helping ensure the survival of our race," Sideswipe said.

Oh, that thing, Prowl thought. No, he hadn't.

"I haven't had the time," he said. "I'm flattered you asked, though, and I will give the question serious consideration, if you are indeed honest with your intentions. If not. . ."

"I'm serious, Prowlie," Sideswipe said. "Otherwise I wouldn't have asked."

"I will think about it then," Prowl said. "Try and get some rest."

-----

National Security Advisor Theodore Galloway stood in the Pentagon's NEST command center, waiting for his teleconference with Diego Garcia to begin. He'd been offered a seat--the chair usually occupied by Gen. Morshower, but he'd declined. Galloway didn't want to give the appearance of trying to take over NEST. Having already taken over once and getting his ass and his pride handed to him, he decided a more respectful, slightly tactful approach to a meeting with the Autobots was in order. That didn't mean he wouldn't play hardball if he had to.

Getting dumped in the desert all those months ago was a humbling experience. So was seeing the lengths the Autobots and humans of NEST were willing to go to in saving one of their own, and learning just what the title of Prime meant to their alien allies. Optimus Prime was one thing, the upstart pain in the ass egotistical kid that was the other Prime rubbed him the wrong way. Rodimus, that was the name. He was a cowboy like Lennox, someone who didn't play by the rules. Hopefully the Autobots had him occupied elsewhere so he wouldn't have to deal with him. However, as the screens in the command center flared to life, revealing the image of Capt. Graham on the communications platform in Diego Garcia and the red and black figure that was not Optimus Prime towering behind him, Galloway knew somebody hadn't told him everything he needed to know.

"Capt. Graham, it's good to see you," Galloway said, biting back his annoyance.

"Sir," Graham said. "You remember Rodimus Prime, correct? You'll be dealing with him instead of Optimus for the foreseeable future."

Galloway's temple started to throb.

"And why is that?" he asked.

"Optimus was wounded in battle several days ago and is confined to the med bay," Graham said.

"No one told me," Galloway said. "Doesn't matter now. What's your operational status? I've been given a report on your current personnel status, but obviously it isn't up to date. Given the fact both of your commanding officers are unavailable, can you deploy if necessary?"

"I am currently co-commander of NEST with Capt. Graham," Hot Rod said. "And to answer your question, we could deploy as usual if needed. The command structure in place has not been compromised with Optimus out of commission and some of the human personnel on leave."

"That's good to know," Galloway said. "But considering your track record as a field commander, I'd feel better knowing Prowl was in command."

"Sir, Optimus was quite clear. . ." Graham started, but he stopped, seeing the look in his friend's optics.

"Mr. Galloway, Optimus left me in charge, not Prowl. I am a Prime. Prowl is not," Hot Rod said.

"I know that," Galloway said. "But in this case, experience should win out over a title. I know the importance of your position, however, you are not as experienced a leader as Optimus or Prowl. If something unfortunate were to befall Optimus, something he couldn't be brought back from, unlike last time, you would be in charge, correct? No offense, but I think you Autobots need to revise your command structure. If there's nothing else. . ."

Back at Diego Garcia, Autobot optics blazed in anger as the connection with Washington, D.C. was cut.

Graham didn't say anything as Rodimus stormed from the hangar. He climbed down from the platform, hoping to catch up but the Autobot was already gone. Once he was outside, he saw Prowl grab him by the shoulder, heard shouting, watched as the young Prime walked away from the tactician.

Prowl saw him coming, and waited for the human to catch up.

"That went well," Prowl said.

"At least he waited until after the meeting to walk away," Graham said.

"True, but Galloway didn't need to treat him that way, either," Prowl said. "Every time Rodimus starts to show a little confidence in himself and his abilities, someone has to make him doubt. Comparing him to Optimus isn't fair. And while I do have more experience as a leader, Rodimus was correct in pointing out I am not a Prime. I could lead if I had to, but it would not be the same."

"Do you think I should try to talk to him?" Graham asked.

"No, give him some time to cool off. Jazz or I will check on him later," Prowl said.

-----

The door to Optimus' office was closed, but Jazz could hear noise coming from inside. A dull, ringing sound. Methodical. Like something being pounded. Curious, he entered his command override door, walked inside the office once the door slid open. The Autobot third in command was greeted by the sight of Rodimus Prime pounding a fist into the wall.

"Optimus ain't gonna like seeing you've damaged his office," Jazz said. "He'll like it even less when he founds out you've probably hurt yourself in the process."

Hot Rod snapped around.

"I don't think he'll care," he said.

"Wanna bet?" Jazz said. "C'mere. Let me see that hand."

Hot Rod glared.

"I take it the conference with Galloway didn't go well," Jazz said.

"Hardly," Hot Rod said.

"Want to talk about it?" Jazz asked.

"No," Hot Rod said.

"Rodi, I can tell by the way you're acting Galloway probably said something he shouldn't have," Jazz said. "If you don't want to talk, at least go get that hand looked at. I can handle things in ops."

"OK," Hot Rod said, heading for the med bay.

-----

It felt good to be out of the med bay, even if it was only for an hour, Optimus Prime thought. He had a babysitter again, Kup this time. They were talking over energon, enjoying each other's company, although Optimus couldn't shake the feeling he was experiencing the calm before the storm. Kup kept glancing his way, looking like he was working himself up to something. And he was right.

"Lad, I know you're holding out on me," Kup said. "I shouldn't push, but it looks like a lot's changed, and I'd like to know what. And how did you come by the Matrix?"

Optimus stared into the depths of his energon container.

"Lad. . ."

"Kup, I'd rather not talk about it right now," Optimus said.

"All right," Kup said. "Then how about Hot Rod. I understand he's had it rough the past few months. What have you done about that?"

"Rodimus has had a difficult time adjusting to being a Prime. It has not been an easy situation for either of us," Optimus said. "I admit at times I haven't handled the matter a well as I could. . .I admit that, but. . ."

"You're both too proud and stubborn for your own good," Kup said. "I know Hot Rod can be hard to handle, but he hasn't broken under the strain, has he?"

"No," Optimus said. "Much to his credit, he hasn't."

"Yet you haven't made it easy for the lad. Not that I'd expect you to, but Hot Rod requires a special touch. Always has. That's why I finished his training, not Ironhide."

"In other words, you trained him because no one else would," Optimus said.

"Something like that," Kup said. "Could, would, doesn't matter now. Let's just say I saw the potential that was there. Potential that has now been realized, only I don't think the lad knows how to handle it yet."

"I remember Ultra Magnus mentioning him on more than one occasion," Optimus said.

"Magnus always tried to keep him out of your sights," Kup said. "But I am surprised your paths never crossed before now."

"Why did Magnus do that?" Optimus asked.

"He figured you had enough on your shoulders without adding a pain in the aft recruit's disciplinary problems to the pile," Kup said. "Or maybe you weren't supposed to notice before now. I think I've said enough, but we're not done. Not by a long shot. It's time for you to go back to the med bay."


	28. Chapter 28

Precipitous

Part 28-Adjust

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet ran sensitive fingers over the knuckles of Hot Rod's right hand, sensors corroborating what his optics already told him. The dermal plating over the first three knuckles was ripped through and the underlying structure of the hand damaged.

"I hope there wasn't a sentient being on the receiving end of your anger," Ratchet said.

"Want to volunteer?" Hot Rod said, more than annoyed.

"Rodimus."

Medic and young Prime's optics snapped around at that commanding voice. Ratchet remained calm while Hot Rod's agitation boiled to the surface once more. Seeing Optimus, even though he was leaning on Kup for support, his authority wasn't lessened.

"Leave us," Optimus said, bracing himself against the wall.

Kup glanced at Ratchet, meeting his optics, turned his attention back to Optimus, nodding.

Once they were gone, Optimus leveled the full force of his gaze on his younger counterpart. Hot Rod didn't flinch, didn't back down.

"As Ratchet indicated, I too, hope your anger was not directed at a fellow Autobot," Optimus said.

Hot Rod bristled slightly, but let himself relax, if only a little.

"The only damage was to myself," he said, leaving out the other half of the wreckage was Optimus' office.

"What has upset you?" Optimus asked.

"It's nothing," Hot Rod said. "Leave it at that."

He stood, walking past Optimus without looking back.

:Rodimus, come back. Don't make me call Ratchet. Or Prowl. Better yet, Kup. I'm sure you'd love to explain to *him* why you're having a temper tantrum when you're supposed to be in charge:

As Optimus sat down on a berth, he realized he hadn't taken the most tactful approach to getting Rodimus to come back. Then again, sometimes, like now, tact wouldn't work on the younger Prime. When Rodimus was in a temper, the direct approach was appropriate. He was proven right when the other Autobot walked back into the med bay.

"You wouldn't tell Kup, would you?" Hot Rod asked.

Optimus cocked an optic ridge. "If I felt the situation warranted it," he said.

"Right now you're not authorized to give command decisions of any kind," Hot Rod said.

"No, that's your job," Optimus countered.

Hot Rod frowned.

"I don't want to argue," Optimus said. "I only wish to know what is bothering you."

"I don't think I'm supposed to do anything that'll stress you or make you worry," Hot Rod said.

"Has Ratchet said anything like that to you?" Optimus asked.

"No, but I don't think you need to know every time something bugs me," Hot Rod said.

"Clearly whatever is wrong is more than 'bugging' you," Optimus said. "I'm not blind. I can see the damage to your hand."

Hot Rod vented air, sighing. There was no getting around the matter now. He sat down on the berth across from Optimus', staring at the floor.

"The morning teleconference didn't go well," Hot Rod said.

"Why?" Optimus asked.

Hot Rod met Optimus' optics. "Galloway."

That explained a lot, Optimus thought.

"Galloway does not think before he speaks," he said.

"Obviously," Hot Rod said. "Why does Gen. Morshower put up with him? Can't they find someone else. . ."

"Gen. Morshower puts up with him because Galloway is the American president's national security advisor--a man whose opinion carries much weight."

"I know," Hot Rod said. "But can't they get someone who's, I don't know, more agreeable?"

"Galloway may lack tact, but he is honest. He speaks his mind. His directness is a welcome contrast to many of the humans we have to deal with, and he has become much easier to deal with since Egypt."

"Whatever," Hot Rod muttered. Leave it to Optimus to find something good in even the most annoying of the humans.

Optimus let the comment slide. "Be direct, don't show any weakness and try to stay in control of the conversation. That's the best way to deal with Galloway. What did he say that upset you?"

"I really don't want to. . ."

The look Optimus gave him made Hot Rod reconsider not telling. He felt like a sparkling, talking about his feelings, but the other Prime was giving him no choice.

"He questioned my leadership skills, and said that while he recognizes the importance of my position as a Prime, the Autobots would be better served by bowing to experience, not tradition," Hot Rod said. "Should something happen to you, again, whatever that means."

The look that fluttered across Optimus' features came and went so quickly Hot Rod wasn't sure he'd even seen it--fear, but the Autobot leader acted as if nothing had happened.

"Maybe you should tell Galloway I was once where you are now," Optimus said. "He may know the title of Prime is important to our people, but I don't think he knows its significance. You could try and enlighten him."

Hot Rod snorted.

"It was merely a suggestion," Optimus said.

"Yeah, I know," Hot Rod said, standing. "I should go. . ."

"You need that hand looked at," Optimus said. "Stay. Isn't someone handling ops?"

"Jazz," Hot Rod said.

"Then stay."

-----

The rec room was mostly empty as Kup and Ratchet sat down. The medic was having second thoughts about leaving the two Primes alone together. Surely they wouldn't start another argument, would they?

"What was that all about?" Kup asked.

"What?" Ratchet said.

"Hot Rod and Optimus," Kup said.

Oh, that, Ratchet thought. Where to start?

"They've been at each other's throats for months now," Ratchet said. "It's not the first time, and I'm certain it won't be the last. Although Ironhide has proposed and interesting theory regarding why. . .he believes it's more than just ire between the two."

"Eh?" Kup asked.

"Forget I said anything," Ratchet said.

"No, explain yourself," Kup said. "What are you talking about?"

Ratchet rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Ratchet, spill," Kup said.

"All right," Ratchet said. "But do not repeat a word of this to anyone. I myself am unsure of what is between them, but. . ."

Kup frowned, mulling the medic's words. A few moments passed, and Ratchet knew he'd figured it out from the look on the ancient mech's face.

"You can't be serious," Kup said. "Optimus and Hot Rod?"

"I'm as serious as can be," Ratchet said. "Ironhide thinks they're attracted to one another, although most of the time it seems they can barely stand to be in the same room together. He may be right. I've seen them together, when they're not arguing, or trying to beat the slag out of each other. . ."

"Well, if that's the case, has anyone tried giving them a shove in the right direction?" Kup asked.

"Not as far as I know," Ratchet said.

"Maybe it's time someone did," Kup said.

-----

Sideswipe was enjoying his mid-day break. He'd talked to Jazz, spent a little time with Prowl and was now avoiding Sunstreaker. The silver twin didn't want a lecture from his brother. If he wanted a lecture, he could go to the med bay and get one just by showing up. No, he was just glad Jazz was all right with his interest in Prowl, and they'd had a chance to straighten things out. Sideswipe wanted to try and pursue a relationship with Prowl, was serious about it. Jazz was OK with it, had given his blessing in a roundabout way, and now Sideswipe needed to drag Prowl back so they could all three talk things out. But that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Coming his way down the corridor was Sunny.

"Hey Sunny," Sideswipe said, trying to pass by so he wouldn't be late for weapons practice.

"Where did you spend last night?" Sunstreaker asked.

"With Prowl," Sideswipe said. "You threw me out, remember? Where was I supposed to recharge, the beach? Last time I did that, Ratchet wouldn't let me hear the end of it. Sand in parts not meant to. . ."

Sunstreaker gave his brother a look that would've cowed anyone but his twin.

"Nothing happened, aft-head," Sideswipe said. "You'd know if it had. By the way, if and when it does, it's payback for all those nights you kept me up fragging the slag out of Arcee. . ."

"'Sides, shut up," Sunstreaker said.

"That's the best you can come up with?" Sideswipe asked, face splitting in a grin. "Domestic life really suits you, Sunny. You gonna carry the next batch of sparklings you two. . ."

He turned and ran as his twin lunged at him. Looked like he was going to be late for duty after all.

-----

Perceptor worked quickly, repairing Rodimus' hand. He was glad to have something to occupy his time, something that kept his mind off worrying about Wheeljack. He knew the engineer would be fine, but until he was fully repaired and blowing up the lab, he wouldn't be satisfied. However, at the moment, watching Optimus Prime watch him repair Rodimus' hand was proving to be an enlightening and amusing pursuit. Each time the Autobot leader caught the scientist looking at him, he'd switch his gaze to the floor, or something else in the med bay, avoiding even looking in Ratchet's office, where he was talking with Prowl.

And from the way the two Primes tried to ignore each other, Perceptor was sure now the rumors were true. He stifled a smile as he finished patching the rips in the back of Rodimus' injured hand.

"Finished," Perceptor said. "The seals will help stimulate the growth of new dermal plating. It might itch, and if it does, try to leave it alone. If not, come see myself or Ratchet. You're free to go."

Rodimus nodded at Perceptor, threw Optimus a glance back over his shoulder. The scientist did smile this time when he saw Rodimus' lips quirk up in a small, cocky smile at Optimus. The other Prime regarded him with a steady gaze, nodding politely.

"Thanks Perceptor," Hot Rod said, walking from the med bay.

Perceptor nodded, turned his attention to putting tools away. He worked in silence, not minding at all. Optimus was once again reading a data pad, which was propped up on his knees because he still only had one arm. Perceptor started to ask when his next round of repairs was set when the door to Ratchet's office opened.

"Thank you, Ratchet," Prowl said, waving back at the medic as he walked out. The medic gave the tactician a curt nod, then turned to Prime.

"I hope you're happy," Ratchet said. "Because if he's going to do what I think he is and with who. . .I swear by Primus and all that's good and holy and just in this universe, if he does, I'm downloading the birthing protocols into *your* processor and you can deal with the situation because I refuse. . ."

Perceptor gave his friend a quizzical look while Optimus only raised an optic ridge.

"To the pit with you both," Ratchet muttered, stalking from the med bay.


	29. Chapter 29

Precipitous

Part 29-Disclose

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The day wasn't winding down quick enough for Hot Rod. He was optic-deep in supply requisitions Optimus Prime had been neglecting. These were the big ones that didn't come along very often, but were important. Things like the scrap metal all the Autobots needed to consume periodically to help replenish base elements and metals used by their internal repair systems when they were damaged. Or, in Arcee's case, to help grow two new protoforms without cannibalizing too much of her own protoform. Also needed were copious amounts of diesel, crude oil and natural gas. The fuels were refined into different types of energon. Also at the bottom of the fuel list was ethanol derived from various plant types, which Perceptor needed for his research.

Hot Rod knew the scientist was concerned about global warming, but he assured the humans the Autobot impact was infinitesimal on a planetary scale. Though the plant derivatives weren't top priority, Perceptor said his work was promising. As long as it kept Perceptor happy and it meant the Autobots were contributing to the health and preservation of their new home, Hot Rod would gladly sign off on any materials the scientist asked for.

He was just setting aside the last requisition when he heard footsteps. Hot Rod looked up, saw Kup standing at the open office door.

"How does Optimus like knowing you're sitting in his chair?" Kup asked, coming the rest of the way in.

"He can have it back when he's healed up," Hot Rod said. "This is only temporary."

Kup hmphed, throwing himself down in the chair on the other side of the desk.

"Have a good talk with Optimus this morning?" he asked. "And how's the hand?"

"It was good to just talk," Hot Rod said. "And my hand is fine."

"What did you two talk about?" Kup said. "Hopefully he gave you a nice long lecture on keeping that temper of yours in check."

"Not this time," Hot Rod said. "Although that is one of Optimus' favorites. I could name his top five, but I don't think you want to hear them."

"If they involve duty, loyalty, bravery, sacrifice, compassion and freedom. . ." Kup said.

Hot Rod laughed, sitting back in his chair, relaxing.

"That's six," he said. "But yeah, that covers it. I've heard it all. Thank Primus he's not as bad as Ultra Magnus. He could lay it on thick and by the time he was done I could never really remember why I was in his office in the first place. Optimus though. . .he's good. I don't think he means to, but he's good with the guilt. But then again, how can you not feel guilty when you've done something wrong and he's the example we all have to live up to?"

"Lad, Optimus ain't perfect. Hardly," Kup said. "Ever seen him lose his temper, I mean really lose it? Or be sarcastic? Usually he's got a dry sense of humor, but when he's provoked, he can get pretty bad. How about over energized? I still remember the time Optimus drank too much at Magnus' party when he received his appointment as military liaison to the High Council. I don't know where he learned those songs. . .maybe Ironhide, I still don't know. Got arrested that night by my own unit. Magnus never lived down that night. To this day Optimus swears he doesn't remember anything that happened. Jazz even offered to show him holos after we got out of lock-up, but of course, Prime, crazy fragger, denied everything, even when he had proof stating otherwise."

"Do you have a point?" Hot Rod asked, biting back a smile. Same old Kup. Some things in the universe never changed, and it looked like the old-timer and his stories were one of its constants.

"My point is there's more to Optimus than meets the eye," Kup said. "Give him a chance, lad. You may be surprised by what you learn. You might even like what you see. And more importantly, despite his oh-so-well buried faults, you can trust Optimus. He's our Prime for a reason, same as you."

Hot Rod snorted. "Trust has to be earned," he said.

"So does respect," Kup retorted. "Optimus obviously trusts you enough to hand over command of his Autobots to you. That's no small thing."

"It's called desperation," Hot Rod said.

"If this is you being humble, I'm glad to see you've finally learned humility, but not at the cost of your confidence," Kup said. "Lad, have things really been that hard?"

"More than you can imagine," Hot Rod said. "It's hard to believe in yourself when everyone around you doubts you can do the job you've been handed, when all you're faced with are disappointment and failed expectations."

"Lad. . ."

"It's all right, Kup. I'm getting by. Optimus has been a little easier to deal with lately since we've reached an agreement of sorts, and now that I actually have something to do, it's not so bad," Hot Rod said.

"What kind of agreement?" Kup asked.

"That's between us," Hot Rod said, the look in his optics suggesting Kup had better stop that line of questioning.

"All right," Kup said.

"Got anymore questions, old-timer?" Hot Rod asked.

"Punk," Kup said, smiling. "Yes I do. I was hoping you'd let me go up to the Xantium to see how Wheeljack's doing. I'd also like to see how the rest of the Wreckers are getting along."

"Not a problem," Hot Rod said. "Just get Blaster to contact the ship and they'll bounce you up. Have fun."

"Sure," Kup said, walking from the office. "Fun" was the last thing on his mind.

-----

Ratchet watched a surprisingly calm Sunstreaker talk with Arcee as the two entered the med bay for her weekly check-up. Each previous appointment since finding out out he was a creator, the gold twin was a wound tight. Not today. This time, it was Arcee who was nervous. Not that anything was wrong. Hardly. Today was the day they would find out the gender of their twins.

The medic smiled at Arcee as she lay back on a berth for a quick exam. Scans showed her systems were operating within normal parameters and the gestation was progressing well.

"Everything looks fine," Ratchet said. "And you've had no problem keeping energon down, no purging?"

"None," Arcee said. "Sunstreaker, on the other hand. . ."

"I can give you something for the anxiety," Ratchet offered.

Sunstreaker glared.

"All right then. . ." Ratchet said, turning his attention back to the femme. "Remember last week when I said the gestation is far enough along now to determine the gender of your offspring? I can run the necessary scans--it'll only take a few minutes, and I can show you a holographic representation of the developing protoforms. I haven't done it in a while, so do you want to know, or do you want it to be a surprise?"

Arcee looked at Sunstreaker, who shrugged.

"I'd like to know," Arcee said.

Ratchet smiled, getting out the necessary equipment. Now Sunstreaker was exhibiting signs of nervousness. The mech was suddenly hovering by Arcee. The medic gave Sunstreaker's shoulder a friendly squeeze as he moved to begin the scan. Minutes later, Ratchet set down the scanner, activated a few buttons and watched as the forms of the twins appeared before Arcee and Sunstreaker.

One dark, one silver, curled together, joined to Arcee's spark.

"Mechs. . .a pair of mechs," Sunstreaker said. He sat down by Arcee, kissed the femme.

"Now we can start picking out names," Arcee said.

"And I can tell 'Sides so he'll lay off," Sunstreaker said.

"Not to mention collect his winnings from the betting pool," Ratchet said.

He noticed Arcee had her arms crossed, but there was mirth in her optics.


	30. Chapter 30

Precipitous

Part 30-Connections

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Being on the Xantium was like coming home, but Kup had other things on his mind. Nostalgia could wait. The Xantium's computer served as a repository for all of the Autobot's activities on Earth, as did the Ark. It didnt' take a rocket scientist, as the humans said, to figure out there were things Optimus wasn't talking about. The ancient Autobot was at his wit's end. No one would answer his questions--Optimus kept dogging him when asked, using Ratchet's wrath as an excuse. His leader's reluctance and Hot Rod's ire were teh tip-off something big had happened. He just wanted to know what. Kup's security clearance was second only to Prime's and Prowl's. His rapport with the ship also meant the Xantium would not tell him no if he went digging around in her archives.

The medic, Red Alert, on the other hand. . .Kup shuddered at the thought of angering _her_. She was a fine medic, second only to Ratchet. However, like her mentor, her reputation preceded her. And he had only himself to blame for her being counted among the Wrecker's crew. Kup buried the thought. He didn't want to think about that. He'd have to face Red soon enough when he checked on Wheeljack, but for the moment, he had other matters to attend. Like mission reports.

Only Drift was on watch in the ship's command center. He nodded at Kup when he saw him.

"How would you feel about helping me with a project?" Kup asked.

Drift cocked his head.

"Is it the kind that'll get us in trouble if anyone finds out?" he asked.

"Then we'll have to make sure we don't get caught," Kup said.

Drift grinned.

-----

Optimus Prime tried sitting still, but the urge to squirm was driving him mad. Ratchet had his hands inside his chest cavity and shoulder, again rooting around.

"Have you given any thought to what we talked about the other day?" the medic asked.

"Which matter?" Optimus said, twitching as Ratchet pulled at one of the cables in his shoulder.

"Taking it easy," Ratchet said.

"What do you think I'm doing now?" Optimus asked, optic ridge cocked.

Ratchet stopped what he was doing, drew himself up to his full height, crossing his arms.

"Getting repaired," he said. "Supposedly resting, but you've been doing anything but. I know you're still stirring all the pots here on base even when you're not supposed to be doing anything. Like I told you before, you need rest and time to recover. Real rest. Not just cooped up here. Time to do something else besides worry all the time, or fight. Maybe do something like concentrate on improving a certain relationship that's been rocky from the start. . ."

"To which relationship are you referring?" Optimus said.

"Don't play innocent with me," Ratchet said, picking up his favorite wrench, moving toward his leader. He reached inside the shoulder joint, used it to adjust a connection. "If you don't do something, I know Kup will. And I won't stand in his way."

Ratchet allowed himself a satisfied smile as his leader's optics widened.

"Glad to see you finally picked up on the fact Kup seems to think you've ridden Rodimus harder than you should have all these months," the medic said. "I'm inclined to agree."

Optimus frowned.

"You have no idea what it's like to be in my position. . ."

"And you have no clue what it's like to deal with you day in and day out," Ratchet said. "I respect you, you're my friend, but sometimes. . ."

He gave Optimus a gentle smack on the back of his helm with the wrench he still held in his hand.

"What was that for?" Optimus asked.

"Being dense," Ratchet said. "Too damn dense to see what's been staring you in the face all these months."

"Meaning?"

"Is your processor rusted?" Ratchet said. "Want me to crack your head open and see? Might do you some good. Want me to spell it out for you? You have a chance to start what could be a meaningful relationship, and you run. Typical. . ."

"If you'll remember, my last 'meaningful relationship' didn't last long," Optimus said.

"You mean that fling you had with Elita-1?" Ratchet asked.

"That was not a fling," Optimus said, optics narrowing in a frown.

"It was," Ratchet said. "It burned out quickly."

Optimus slouched down on the berth.

"Elita didn't want a serious relationship," he said. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Still haven't gotten over that?" Ratchet said. "Speaking of, there's another matter you and I need to discuss."

He set down his wrench, pulled up his stool and sat down.

"The past year hasn't been easy," Ratchet said. "For any of us, especially you. And you haven't exactly been coping in the healthiest of ways. You know what I'm talking about. Don't deny it."

"I've done just fine," Optimus said. "The duty of leadership is mine to bear alone. I am Prime."

"Don't hide behind that," Ratchet said. "Deny it all you like, but that's just it--you haven't dealt with it," Ratchet said. "You _died_."

"Dealing with that particular issue is my business," Optimus said.

"And tell me--just how have you dealt with it?" Ratchet asked. "Because you sure haven't talked to me about it. Instead, you've kept everyone at arm's length, shut yourself off and pushed yourself to the brink. If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a death wish. But I don't think that's it. Then, again, that noble, self-sacrificing attitude of yours is borderline suicidal. You're not throwing your life away on my watch. Get that through that thick head of yours."

Optimus had no reply, deciding it was best not to say anything from the look in Ratchet's optics.

"What, no retort? Guess I finally got through," Ratchet said. "That means you know I'm right, correct?"

Optimus stared at the floor.

"Have you given any thought what will happen to the rest of us if something happens to you? How that would affect your people, the humans?" Ratchet asked. "And there is another consideration--do you really want to leave Rodimus alone to deal with everything? Is that what you want? He doesn't deserve that."

Ratchet noted with satisfaction how Optimus' head snapped up, the mix of emotions playing rapidly across his face as his optics met the medic's.

"Think about what I've said," he said. "I'm done for now, and I think we both need to get out of here for a while."

The medic grinned at his leader's confusion.

"C'mon," he said, helping Optimus to his feet. "There's a gathering tonight in the rec room tonight."

-----

The energon was flowing and so was the beer. Graham wasn't supposed to know that, but how could he not when somebody handed him a can as he passed by? Arcee and Sunstreaker made their news publicly known. Not like everyone hadn't heard or at least expected something was going on with the Autobots. New life was reason enough among humans to celebrate, but for the Autobots, it was a precious thing indeed.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, they'd have to let Gen. Morshower know now that the Autobots made the announcement about Arcee's twins official. Hopefully they could keep the news quiet until the general returned from vacation. Graham didn't want to have to explain that one to Galloway. Suddenly the thought of being on hand during that discussion between the national security advisor and Rodimus made the soldier throw back his beer and reach for another.

Speaking of the devil, the young Autobot was suddenly down on one knee in front of him, gazing down at him with a quizzical look.

"Everything all right?" Hot Rod asked.

"Yes. Good beer," Graham said.

Hot Rod shrugged, stood at his full height. "Just making sure," he said. "I didn't exactly give permission for this little gathering."

"Neither did I," Graham said. "But let's not ruin anyone's fun. You know as well as I do they all need this--human and Cybertronian alike. How many opportunities do we get to celebrate something good?"

"Not nearly enough," Hot Rod said.

"Who started this?" Graham said.

"Sideswipe," Hot Rod said. "Once he found out he won the betting pool. Arcee's carrying a pair of mechs."

"When are they due?" Graham asked.

"Another month" Hot Rod said.

"That's all?" Graham said.

"Cybertronian gestation isn't nearly as long as a human's," Hot Rod said. "Well, if it's a mech doing the carrying, it lasts a little longer. Ratchet can explain it better than I can."

"Anyone else planning on. . .ah, staring a family?" Graham said.

Hot Rod snorted. "Beats me," he said. "Except if Springer and Ironhide aren't careful. . ."

"If Springer and Ironhide aren't careful what'll happen?"

Hot Rod suddenly stopped talking at the sound of that voice. Graham choked on his beer.

Kup.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Uh, nothing," Hot Rod muttered. "Gotta go. C'mon Graham."

Hot Rod strode off, Graham running to keep up. Kup watched them go, glad Hot Rod looked like he was having a good time. The night's festivities were not time to take up a certain issue with his Prime. Optimus and he needed to have another little talk, and not just about Hot Rod. Kup pushed the anger from his mind. Arcee was carrying twins, and by Sunstreaker? Optimus wasn't the only one who needed a good talking to.


	31. Chapter 31

Precipitous

Chapter 31-Talk

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder was as close to a public display of affection as Ironhide would come. Springer was beside him, their shoulders barely touching. They shared a comfortable silence. For the most part. Springer would snipe back at Sideswipe or Sunstreaker occasionally, or encourage Prowl's drinking. Not a good idea. Never was, but that didn't keep Prowl from tossing back energon or Jazz and Ratchet to back down either.

Ironhide was pleasantly buzzed, enjoying the antics of those around him, with one exception. Optimus was off in a corner, by himself, optics shuttered, looking like he was in recharge. The weapons specialist reflected his leader should probably be in the med bay, but Ratchet had dragged him to the rec room himself. He still lacked his right arm, but part of his chest armor was back in place, which was a good sign. Optimus' aloneness, on the other hand, was not.

The black mech placed a hand on Springer's shoulder, nodded in Optimus' direction.

"I'm going to go check on him," Ironhide said.

"All right," Springer said, watching Ironhide go, then turned his attention back to the latest round of drinking game between Prowl and Jazz.

Optimus didn't move when he heard footsteps, merely onlined his optics to see who it was.

"Go back to Springer," he said. "I'm fine here the way I am."

"Alone? You should go find Rodimus," Ironhide said. "Talk. Maybe share a little energon. Or more."

Optimus vented air, sighing.

"Ironhide. . ."

"I can go find him if you'd like," Ironhide said.

"I think Rodimus has had enough of me for one day," Optimus said. "'Hide, I told you I'm fine. I'm comfortable, and I'm not really alone."

"You're sure?" Ironhide asked.

Optimus nodded, settling back, letting himself drift into recharge.

-----

Warm sand under his back, the crash of waves on the shore lulled Graham into a peaceful state. Happiness was a fleeting thing in his line of work, and he was letting himself enjoy it. He let down his guard, just for a few hours. Rodimus sat beside him.

"If you're thinking about what needs to be done tomorrow, stop right now," Graham said.

Hot Rod regarded his friend with amusement.

"I'm not," he said.

"Thinking about Optimus then?" Graham asked, immediately regretting it. He wasn't so inebriated he couldn't recognize his own stupidity.

"What makes you think that?" Hot Rod said.

Graham sat up, suddenly very interested in brushing sand off himself.

"No reason," he said.

"Really?" Hot Rod said.

"Well, just wondering. . ." Graham muttered. "You two've been treating each other with a little more respect than usual."

"I'm just trying to be civil and do my job until Optimus comes back to active duty," Hot Rod said.

"No other reason? None at all?" Graham asked, hopeful.

"Graham, what is wrong with you?" Hot Rod asked. "Did you have too much to drink? Do you need to see a medic?"

"No," Graham said, throwing himself back down on the sand. "Apparently I haven't had enough to drink tonight. Neither have you."

"I think you've had just enough," Hot Rod said. "Damn delusional humans. That stuff your species drinks is toxic, if you need to be reminded. . .no offense, but. . ."

"None taken," Graham said. "Can you give me a ride back to the barracks?"

Hot Rod watched Graham stand on wobbly legs, ready to reach out and steady his friend if he exhibited signs of further loss of motor control.

"Well?" Graham said, glaring up at the young Autobot.

"No, I thought I'd head back on my own and let you walk," Hot Rod said, laughing as he transformed.

"Jackass," Graham said, climbing inside the Autobot.

-----

The rec room was mostly empty, save for the two Autobots sitting at one table, surrounded by empty energon cubes. Ironhide was well past pleasantly buzzed, listening to Kup talk about sun harvesters, dead Primes, and how a certain still-living Prime would get his aft handed to him if he didn't start answering questions. Ironhide was only half-listening, head resting on his folded arms on the table. He let Kup talk. The ancient mech could outtalk Blurr.

". . .I should kick his aft to Cybertron and back for treating the lad so and I thought he knew better? Alpha Trion would have his head if he knew what was going on and maybe I should remind Prime of that. What would his creator think? And what is Optimus thinking, well, honestly, I don't think he is. . ." Kup said.

Ironhide hmphed at that.

"What?" Kup asked.

"Optimus has been exceptionally stubborn these past few months," Ironhide said, lifting his head up.

Kup cocked an optic ridge. "Worse than usual?"

"You have no idea," Ironhide said. "There are things he needs to tell Rodimus, and he won't. He won't even talk to me anymore. . ."

"What things?" Kup asked. Now that he had been through the Xantium's archives, he had a clearer picture of just what had happened over the past few months. But he wanted to hear it from someone who had actually been involved.

"Things," Ironhide said, laying his head back down on his arms. "Important things."

"Like?" Kup said, waiting.

His answer was the soft intake and venting of air from Ironhide as he settled into recharge.


	32. Chapter 32

Precipitous

Chapter 32-Disregard

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Blessed darkness. At least it was quiet, with the exception of his own thoughts and fighting the urge to rub at his itching hand. At least it didn't hurt, and the day had ended well. Mostly. With the exception of the door to his quarters now open and the lights on, followed by footsteps.

"What're you doing here?"

"I was trying to recharge," Hot Rod said, boosting himself up onto his elbows, wishing he could just settle back on his berth. Instead, he gave Springer a tolerant smile. "I could ask you the same question. Why aren't you with Ironhide?"

Springer threw himself down on his own berth.

"'Hide's swapping stories with Kup, thought I'd let 'em have some time together to catch up," Springer said.

Hot Rod sat up.

"And make yourself scarce so Kup doesn't suspect anything," he said, grinning.

"We're gonna tell him, just not yet," Springer said, sitting down on his own berth.

"When?" Hot Rod said.

Springer shrugged.

"And you accused *me* of procrastinating," Hot Rod said.

"You're a Prime," Springer said. "That trumps my relationship with Ironhide."

"Yeah, well. . ."

"What?" Springer asked, crossing his arms.

"I don't know," Hot Rod said.

"You don't have to be so alone," Springer said. "You still have me to talk to. And I'm sure Kup still wants answers. I've been avoiding him not just for my sake."

"I've said all that needs saying about becoming a Prime," Hot Rod said.

"Uh huh," Springer said. "You never talk about it at all, unless you're yelling at Optimus about where he can shove being a Prime. . ."

"That's my business," Hot Rod said.

"Rodi, that's just it--it's not just your business anymore," Springer said. "Especially when you call out our leader in front of everyone. Don't get me wrong--you wouldn't be you if you weren't, sometimes. . .but things have changed. Expectations, the way the humans see you. . ."

Hot Rod stood.

"Don't remind me," he said.

"And you've changed," Springer said. "For the better. I know it's been hard, but even I can see some of that potential Kup's always talking about starting to shine through."

Hot Rod snorted.

"Seriously, Rodi, I'm proud of you. I don't know what I'd do if I was in your place," Springer said.

"You're a better leader that I'll ever be," Hot Rod said. "You lead the Wreckers. And what am I, second best to our revered Prime? C'mon, Spring, we both know I'll never be the leader Optimus is. . ."

Springer stood, placed his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"You're not second best," Springer said. "You're his equal--if only you'd see that. . .don't slide back into this doubt, Rodi. If Optimus Prime can't see you for who you truly are, then it's his loss. You might be a Prime, but you're still my best friend, you're still Hot Rod. That hasn't changed, and it never will. Just remember that."

Hot Rod nodded.

"Thanks, Spring," he said.

-----

Hot Rod counted backwards from 10, hoping Graham would show before their morning teleconference with Theodore Galloway. Not that he could blame him if he was late. His friend had overindulged with alcohol the night before, and before the day was out, Hot Rod was determined to give him another lecture on the dangers of the substance to humans. He was done counting when he heard the sound of hurried human footsteps.

Hot Rod looked down to see Graham pull up beside him, red-faced, breathing hard from his exertions. He scanned his friend--elevated heart rate, low blood sugar, oxygen saturation also low. Graham wasn't functioning within normal parameters because of his hangover, his run to the hangar and not eating breakfast.

"I think you and Ratchet need to have a talk," Hot Rod said as the main screen came to life, revealing the image of Galloway.

Graham shot him a look, but kept silent.

"Good morning," Hot Rod said, trying to be polite.

"Skip it," Galloway said. "You're late. I have only one question--what's with all the requests for scientific materials? I thought Optimus Prime said you weren't going to give us access to your advanced weaponry, but if your scientists are going to do research that could endanger our planet. . ."

Hot Rod balled his right fist in frustration. So it began. . .

"Optimus Prime gave final approval for the construction of a lab here at the base," Hot Rod said. "Gen. Morshower gave his blessing. And as to the research that will be conducted, Perceptor was the most renowned scientist on Cyberton before the war. A civilian scientist with more interest in creating ways to help your people and mine than to harm. If you don't believe me. . ."

"Fine, whatever," Galloway said. "We need to move on. I need an update on your operational status, and have you given any consideration to what we talked about yesterday--updating your command structure?"

"Our operational status is the same as yesterday," Hot Rod said. "And our command structure remains as it stands. Mr. Galloway, with all due respect, I don't think you truly understand what you would be asking we give up if we Autobots change the way we do things, so I'll forgive your ignorance. If that's all you have, then we're done."

Hot Rod caught the eye of one of the human technicians, who ended the transmission. He walked from the hangar, Graham again scrambling to keep up.

"Nice way to end the meeting," Graham said.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's not what Optimus meant when he said trying to keep control of the conversation and not show any weakness was the best way to deal with Galloway," Hot Rod said.

"No, probably not," Graham said. "But at least you didn't shout at him."

"Give me time," Hot Rod said. "C'mon. We've got a long day ahead of us."

-----

The rec room. Looked different in the morning light with a hangover, Kup reflected. Not better. Just full of light and noise and half the fragging base grabbing their morning energon. Kup almost turned around and walked out, but a couple of things caught his optics, giving him second thoughts--like social butterfly Jazz sitting by himself near the entrance, looking unhappy. Every now and then, the mech's optics would dart to another table, where Prowl and Sideswipe were talking. Also interesting was how close Ironhide and Springer were sitting, voices so low the ancient mech couldn't hear what they were talking about. However, they did notice his presence, at least it registered with Springer who stood so fast he knocked his chair over. Kup watched as the younger mech muttered an apology, leaving the rec room.

Ironhide watched Springer go, optics widening slightly under Kup's scrutiny. He guzzled down the rest of his energon, stood, walked past the ancient mech with only a nod.

Younglings, Kup thought, heading back to Jazz's table. If anyone would fill him in on just what the hell was going on, it would be him, he hoped.

-----

Ratchet had a splitting processor ache as he made his way to the med bay. He reminded himself to never get into another drinking game with Prowl and Jazz. The medic still couldn't believe he'd let Prowl outdrink him. Prowl even left Jazz in the dust. How Prowl was still standing that morning, Ratchet didn't understand. Nor for once, did he care. He had too much to think about now, most of which involved his errant, stubborn leader. Ratchet still managed keeping an eye on Optimus during the previous night's festivities, hadn't liked what he'd seen. Optimus in the corner, by himself, making excuses when anyone asked him to join them, feigning recharge. He'd even managed to get Ironhide to leave him alone, which meant Optimus had been tired, or just really good at lying. Either way, it was the last straw, and Ratchet meant to do something about it.

He entered the med bay, turned on the lights, optics centering on his lone patient.

"Are you awake?" Ratchet asked.

"I have been for some time," Optimus said. "I was hoping we could talk."

Hmm, Ratchet thought. Maybe this was a good sign.

"Talk about what?" he said.

Optimus pushed himself up with his good arm. "Am I recovered enough to leave the med bay? I'm not getting any work done here, and I am falling behind every day I sit here. . ."

He trailed off, noticing the look on the medic's face. Calm. No signs of hostility yet, and his arms were crossed, like he wasn't convinced he was hearing what he was hearing. Optimus continued.

"I feel rested, and there's no reason why I can't resume at least some of my duties," he said.

"What do you have in mind?" Ratchet asked, interested in what Optimus thought he could be doing. He cocked an optic ridge when his leader perked up at that.

"I feel I can manage a return to my day to day duties, the administrative side, no combat," Optimus said. "You've allowed Arcee to remain active in her condition, so I don't see why. . ."

Ratchet walked over to his berth, pulled up his stool and sat down.

"You're right, we do need to talk," he said.

-----

Jazz tried to excuse himself when he saw Kup coming, but his former mentor and commanding officer had a firm grip that steered him back into his chair. The day kept getting better and better, he reflected. He resigned himself to the company.

"What do you want old-timer?" he asked as Kup sat down.

"Information," Kup said.

That took Jazz by surprise. Curious, he settled back.

"What kind of information?" Jazz said.

"The kind that fills in blanks," Kup said.

"I take it your little side trip the other day up to the Xantium included more than just checking up on Wheeljack?" Jazz said.

"Something like that," Kup said. "I have an idea of what's been going on since you all landed on this backwater, but I'm just curious why no one's had the sense or the mettle to tell me face to face."

Kup's optics were locked on his own, looking right through him, just like he had the first time they'd met. Jazz hadn't lied then and he couldn't now, but it didn't keep him from twitching ever so slightly. Optimus Prime had made it very clear he didn't want to talk about what had happened in Egypt, so no one did.

"It's not like it's a secret," Jazz finally said. "But Optimus doesn't want to talk about it, and he hasn't."

Kup sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"Then why were the mission and incident reports encrypted and buried so deep in the Xantium's memory core it took an omega-level security clearance to find them?" Kup said. "And did he honestly think no one would see the name 'Optimus Prime' on a fatality list? You can't tell me that was a mistake. I'm not blind and I'm not stupid. I couldn't find anything about the Matrix and how it came to be here, but I know it's here, and Hot Rod's carrying it. And I'm guessing it was somehow used to bring. . ."

"That's enough, Kup," Jazz said. "It's over and done."

"My aft," Kup said. "This isn't even close to being done."


	33. Chapter 33

Precipitous

Chapter 33-Lapse

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Why did patients always try to talk their way out of the med bay? Didn't matter who was in charge or what was wrong, they always wanted _out_, no matter how logical, simple and polite the explanation. Ratchet knew he was a terrible patient himself, and wondered if his current situation wasn't payback for all the times he'd been a bad patient. His head hurt. Hadn't even started the conversation yet, but he felt a dull ache right behind his optics which promised to get worse. He cycled air, vented it. Calm and rational. He was going to be calm and rational and give Optimus Prime a good talking-to. Damn idiot needed it.

"So. . ." Ratchet started, mulling over his options. Optimus was comparing his situation to Arcee's? No comparison. Not even close. "Arcee? Not really comparable, Prime. You know she's on light duty only, and she has strict orders not to overdo it, and she hasn't. You, on the other hand, if given an inch, will take a mile, as the humans say."

Optimus glared.

"You know I'm right," Ratchet said. "You've done well while you've been in here this time, but it's only because I've been here baby-sitting you every day, keeping you from working yourself senseless when you need to be resting, healing. Need I remind you you're recovering from some very serious injuries? It's just the latest in a long line of wounds that you haven't let heal properly. And I'm not just talking about the physical wounds. You have a lot you haven't dealt with, and that isn't helping either. . ."

The medic frowned, trailing off when he noticed Optimus' gaze had shifted slightly. The Autobot leader was no longer looking at him. Instead, he was looking past Ratchet at the mech standing in the med bay doorway.

Rodimus. Great.

"What do you want?" Ratchet asked.

"My hand is bothering me," Hot Rod said. "Perceptor said if it started itching, to see you or come to him, so. . ."

"Sit down," Ratchet said, pointing toward an empty berth.

Hot Rod complied, keeping his mouth shut as the medic started poking and prodding at his injured right hand.

"What's the problem?" Ratchet said.

"It itches," Hot Rod said.

"That's an easy fix," Ratchet said, turning to dig around in a cabinet. Finding the right container, he tossed it at Hot Rod.

"This salve should take care of the problem," he said. "Just use it when it itches. It's healing fine, by the way."

"Thanks, Ratch," Hot Rod said, standing. "Oh, wait, I have a favor to ask, if you don't mind. . ."

"What have you done now that's going to require medical dispensation?" Ratchet said, noticing Optimus had more than perked up since Rodimus' arrival.

"Not a damn thing," Hot Rod said. "It's Graham. He's not operating within acceptable parameters, and he hasn't done anything today to correct it, so I thought a reminder from you would go along way in helping him get back on the right track."

"Do it yourself," Ratchet snapped, wanting to return to his conversation with Optimus.

"I've tried, and he won't listen to me. It needs to come from an authority figure," Hot Rod said.

"Last time I checked, you're an authority figure," Ratchet said.

"You know what I mean," Hot Rod said. "I'm his friend, and even if I am a Prime, it just won't be the same, like it would coming from you, or even Optimus."

Ratchet again frowned. Why did everything with Rodimus always come down to thinking his being a Prime didn't mean the same thing as Optimus? Yet another issue he was going to have to work on. Or not. Red Alert was always better at counseling than he was, and if he had his gossip straight, the female medic and the young Prime were close, or once were. He shelved that thought for later consideration.

"I'll see what I can do," Ratchet said.

"Thanks," Hot Rod said.

"Wait. I can go take care of it now, if you don't mind sitting with slag head here for a while," Ratchet said.

Optimus looked offended.

"I do not need a baby-sitter," he said.

"Whatever," Ratchet snorted, ignoring Optimus. "I'm not keeping you from anything, am I, Rodimus?"

"No," Hot Rod said. "Just a never-ending stack of reports."

"Good," Ratchet said.

-----

Getting reamed by Kup wasn't a good way to start the day. Prowl and Sideswipe were strike number two. Strike three arrived in the form of trying to reason with an injured Ironhide. Jazz wanted to smash his head into a wall until he was unconscious. At the time, including members of the Wreckers in their drill had seemed like a good idea. Not like they'd bothered running the idea by Rodimus, Prowl, Springer or Graham. No. Ironhide had simply decided that morning, for a change of pace, they were going to include Roadbuster and Drift. One brief conversation with Blaster and an orbital jump later, the shooting started.

"Trouble" didn't even begin to cover it. Not even close. Orbital jumps were restricted to emergency situations only, and live fire exercises were to be planned out to the very last detail. This was get thrown into the brig for a very long time material. And it wasn't Rodimus Jazz was afraid of. Instead, it was Prowl. He didn't want to face Prowl because he _knew_ what the Autobot second-in-command would say when he found out. However, at the moment, Prowl's imaginary lecture was being drowned out by Ironhide, who was arguing with Roadbuster.

". . .I told you it's only a scratch," Ironhide said, batting away the big mech's hands as he tried to help him up.

"My aft," Drift said. "If it had been a closer shot we'd be calling you 'stumpy' right now. You're lucky that leg's still attached to your body."

"Attached" wasn't the word Jazz would've used. "Hanging by a few cables and an almost burned beyond recognition servo" fit better.

"If dumb and dumber hadn't got in the way, this would've turned out different," Roadbuster said, pointing accusingly at Skids and Mudflap.

"It's called a diversion," Skids said.

"Diversion? More like stupidity," Drift said. "How about next time we just line you two up and use you as targets? I'm sure Prime wouldn't mind. . ."

Jazz pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. His head was starting to throb and oh Primus why was he suddenly having to be the responsible one? Not that he minded, but this was crazy. He worked better alone, special ops and all that. Maybe he could convince Rodimus to let him go search for the Combaticons? Had to be safer and quieter than Diego Garcia at the moment. . .

"Enough!" Jazz snapped. "Nobody is using anybody else for target practice."

"But those two little glitches need to be taught a lesson. . ." Drift started.

The Wrecker suddenly found himself toe to toe and optic to optic with the Autobot third in command.

"And you need to be taught some respect," Jazz said. "You might be a Wrecker, and the best there is at what you do, but you're here now and you will do as I say. Clear?"

Drift frowned, but backed down. "Crystal."

"Good," Jazz said. "You just volunteered yourself to go get Ratchet."

-----

"How did the morning briefing go?" Optimus asked, steeling himself for the answer.

"It was short," Hot Rod said.

"That's all?" Optimus said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said.

"How's Kup settling in?" Optimus said.

"Cranky," Hot Rod said. "I think he needs something to do besides run training drills and help out in ops."

"You could give him something to do," Optimus said.

"I've been thinking about it, but I didn't want to do anything without running it by you first," Hot Rod said, sitting down on the berth by Optimus' own.

"Rodimus, right now, you are Prime, you're in charge, and you do not have to run anything by me," Optimus said. "Unless you feel it necessary."

"Well, I'll see what I can come up with," Hot Rod said, getting annoyed with small talk. "If you're going to pump me for information on how things are going, all you have to do is ask. Quit treating me like I don't know what I'm doing. If you don't trust me to do the job I've been given, then just relieve me of duty and put Prowl in charge. If you want to ask me something, just ask, same goes for just talking. You want to know something, quit dancing around the issue. I'm not a sparkling, and I'm not going to break under pressure."

Optimus vented air, sighing.

"I was merely trying to make conversation," he said.

"I know," Hot Rod said. "It's hard, being laid up, I know. Has Ratchet said anything about when you might get out of here?"

Optimus shrugged. "We were talking about it before you arrived," he said. "I doubt he'll let me assume all of my duties at once. . ."

"But something is better than nothing," Hot Rod said.

"Yes," Optimus said.

Hot Rod started to say something, but his optics suddenly gained a blank look as he was commed. He stood.

"Gotta go," he said. "That was Prowl. Don't worry. I'll fill you in later."


	34. Chapter 34

Precipitous

Chapter 34-Mistakes

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod stood by, listening as Springer dressed down Roadbuster and Drift. With no humans around, Springer had switched back to Cybertronian, which allowed profanity with nuances and combinations the humans couldn't begin to imagine. The young Autobot had kindly offered Optimus Prime's office for Springer's use.

". . .and if you EVER use those kind of weapons and tactics that close to humans again outside of a real combat situation, you'll wish you'd never been sparked," Springer finished. He looked at Hot Rod. "Have anything to say?"

"I think you said it all," Hot Rod said. "Besides, they're under your direct command, not mine. You answer to the Prime, remember? That hasn't changed."

Drift and Roadbuster exchanged a glance.

"Did I give you permission to move?" Springer snarled. "Get out of here."

The two Wreckers beat a hasty retreat. Springer waited until the door was shut to throw himself down in a chair. "Primus, I hated having to do that, but they deserved it," he said. "I wonder how Jazz is faring with Prowl."

"I don't know," Hot Rod said. "I feel kinda sorry for Jazz. I told him I'd handle it all, but he volunteered to tell Prowl what happened. It would've been quicker than getting an account from Skids and Mudflap."

Springer grinned. "I know," he said. "But they provided a perfect opportunity for me."

"Yeah. Wonder how long it'll be before Drift kills you in your sleep because you said the twins conducted themselves with more maturity than he and Roadbuster?" Hot Rod said.

"He'll get over it," Springer said. "Maybe he was right though--they have been cooped up too long up on the Xantium. Would you consider working the crew into the duty rotation here at the base?"

Hot Rod sat back in his chair, considering the request. It was actually a good idea.

"And we could rotate some of the personnel here up to the Xantium, just to give them a change of pace," he said.

Springer raised an optic ridge. "You don't have to get Optimus to approve this?"

"No," Hot Rod said.

"Speaking of the Wreckers, why don't you talk to Red while she's here? I'm sure she'd like some normal company after she and Ratchet finish with Ironhide's leg. . ." Springer said, testing the waters. Rodi was spending entirely too much time lately wrapped up in work, and not taking any time for himself.

"Spring, I've told you before--not a chance. We're just friends," Hot Rod said, suddenly turning his attention to a data pad on the desk.

"So there's no chance you're interested in starting a relationship with anyone? Not even Optimus?" Springer asked. "I told you before--if you want something, go after it. It's not like you to just walk away. Is something keeping you from it? Or are you just afraid?"

Hot Rod didn't have a chance to answer. The door to the office was chiming.

"Duty calls," he said.

-----

Ratchet watched as Red Alert put away the last of the tools. The med bay was back in proper order, excepting the large black metal mass occupying a surgical berth.

"Do you need anything else?" Red Alert asked.

"Besides some high grade and a ticket off this planet? No," Ratchet answered. "I'm going to stay a while and keep an eye on aft head here."

Red Alert regarded Ironhide's inert form.

"I don't think he's going anywhere," she said.

"He won't stay under much longer and when he wakes, he'll try and leave," Ratchet said.

"If he needs a sitter, get Springer to do it. Or I can stay until he can. You need to get some rest," Red Alert said. "No arguing this time. And I promise to stop by and check on Optimus."

Ratchet sighed. He was tired. Damn crazy slaggers anyway.

"All right. Stay. Call me if you need anything, and I'll check on Optimus on my way to my quarters. He better still be in his," Ratchet said.

Red gave the mech a friendly squeeze on the shoulder as he passed by.

-----

Kup slowed as he reached the stretch of beach that was quickly becoming a favorite. He wasn't alone. Another Autobot already occupied the spit of sand, and considering who it was, Kup didn't mind sharing. Arcee smiled up at the ancient mech when she saw him coming her way. She stood, hugged Kup, then sat back down, and he followed suit.

"Exciting day, wasn't it?" Arcee asked.

"'Exciting' isn't the word I'd use," Kup said.

"How's Prowl?" Arcee said.

"Angry, and relieved of duty until tomorrow," Kup said. "And damn Hot Rod. . .he picked *me* as duty officer in ops for tonight, I'm also to take over special ops until Jazz gets back. He also managed to tick off Springer, making him acting third in command. . ."

"He's just doing his job," Arcee said.

Kup snorted.

"Enough about all that. There's something I've been meaning to ask. . .Sunstreaker? Mind if I ask why, or is that too personal a question?"

Arcee smiled. Same old Kup.

"Not really," she said. "You're the only who's asked. He's self-centered and crazy, but once you get to know him, he's not so bad."

"I know, lass," Kup said. "Congratulations. I know it's twins, but are they mechs or femmes?"

"Thank you," she said. "A pair of mechs."

"How'd Ratchet and Prowl take it when they found out it was twins?"

"About as well as you'd think," Arcee said. "Prowl crashed. Ratchet collapsed, although I think he had help with that from Red Alert. It's funny now, but at the time. . ."

"Chaos. No matter their respective opinion, new life is a gift, regardless of who sparked it," Kup said. "Considering we're on the verge of being an endangered species, it's a blessing. I wish you and Sunstreaker the best of luck."

"Primus knows we're going to need it," Arcee said. "But Sunny is happy and nervous, and Sideswipe is almost as excited as he is. He even suggested a name we both like, and we're going to use it. We still need another name, but we have a little time."

"I have another question," Kup said. "What about Hot Rod? He chased you for years. What changed?"

Arcee wasn't expecting that. She knew she could save herself the trouble, but it was Kup who was asking. He deserved nothing short of honesty. She had her own personal reasons as to why it wasn't Rodimus who was the sire of her offspring, but Kup didn't need to know that.

"It isn't me he wanted," Arcee said.

-----

Optimus Prime dimmed the lights to his quarters, laid back on his berth, ready for recharge. It was early, compared to his usual standards, but he was under strict orders to rest. Threatened within an inch of his life was more like it. Ratchet had stopped by not long before, exploded with a short tirade and left. Optimus knew the CMO could've made him stay in the med bay, but the presence of his two most fractious patients at the same time was too much to deal with, even with one unconscious. The Autobot leader was glad for even a brief respite from the med bay and Ratchet's constant presence.

He was almost in recharge when the door to his quarters opened. With difficulty, Optimus propped himself up with his one arm, raising an optic ridge when he saw who had entered. Rodimus.

"I think I just did something incredibly stupid," Hot Rod said.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you did what you thought was best," Optimus said. From where he was sitting he could sense Rodimus' buzzing energy field and he could see the uncertainty on the young mech's face.

Hot Rod snorted, showing a bit of his customary cockiness. "I'm sure you won't be so calm and reassuring when you find out what I did," he said.

"Then explain," Optimus said.

Hot Rod sighed. No use in postponing the inevitable.

"I just gave Jazz permission to take Drift and go looking for the Combaticons," he said. "Look, it all happened so fast and I didn't know what to do and Kup had to help me separate Jazz and Prowl before they tore each other apart. They were yelling at each other, and we could hear them from the corridor, and I think we interrupted something personal from the way things sounded and before I could ask what was going on Jazz was saying he needed to get away, he's suffocating here with the same thing day in and day out, and he asked and I said yes, and they're probably in Mexico by now because that's where the last NEST intel was, and oh Primus. . ."

Optimus stood, grabbed Hot Rod by the shoulder, dragged him back to the berth, forced him to sit, sat down beside him. Against his better judgment, he decided to listen, because he felt Rodimus wasn't done.

"And Prowl. . .I told him he was relieved from duty until at least tomorrow, and Kup's in charge in ops tonight. I also pissed off Springer with making him acting third in command until Jazz gets back, so if he drops by and complains, you'll know why," Hot Rod said. "Ironhide's fine, by the way, but I suppose you know how all that happened, right?"

"Ratchet said it was a 'training accident,'" Optimus said.

"Yeah. . ." Hot Rod said. "Did he bother to elaborate?"

"As usual, I assume Ironhide's lack of good judgment snowballed into the situation you've been dealing with?" Optimus asked.

"Something like that," Hot Rod said. "But this thing with Jazz and Prowl--that's new. Jazz hasn't been very happy about something the past few days. . .and Prowl's been spending a lot of off-duty time with Sideswipe. . ."

Optimus watched as realization set in.

"Maybe I should be paying more attention to what's been going on around me and I wouldn't be having to deal with this now," Hot Rod said.

"Wise words," Optimus said. "However, even I do not know everything, no matter how hard I try."

"And we shouldn't let personal matters spill over into how we do our jobs," Hot Rod said. "Except I can't even follow my own advice. . .I should let you get some rest, or Ratchet will kill me. I'm sorry, Optimus. I should have handled this better. . ."

He started to stand, but Optimus put a hand on his shoulder.

"You handled the situation the way you thought it should be handled," Optimus said.

"You mean you're not angry?" Hot Rod said.

"No," Optimus said. "As I told you earlier today, you are in charge right now, not I. And yes, I should get some rest. So should, Rodimus. You can stay here. My offer to use my quarters still stands."


	35. Chapter 35

Precipitous

Chapter 35-Interruptions

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

There were times Sideswipe wanted to throttle his twin. Times like now. Reason wouldn't work. Never did when Sunny was worked up. Reason as it applied to their relationship. . .funny. The silver twin would've been laughing if it wasn't for the murderous gleam in Sunstreaker's optics. Then again, it was none of Sunny's business where he'd been and what he was doing.

"You just had to go and do it, didn't you?" Sunstreaker said.

"Sunny, slag off," Sideswipe said, rolling his optics. "I've told you already--it's none of your business."

He suddenly found himself pinned against the wall by his brother.

"Damn straight it is _my_ business when you're 'facing the second in command," Sunstreaker hissed. "Are you out of your mind? I hope you get this out of your system fast, because when Prowl realizes you're just playing around, he's going to kill you."

Sideswipe shoved Sunstreaker away.

"I'm not playing around," Sideswipe said. "So slag off. It's not like we intended for it to happen. . .it just happened. Look--Prowl's angry with Jazz, I thought they'd talked things out, but I don't know. . .frag it. Sunny, just leave me alone, all right?"

He turned away from Sunstreaker, shoulder slumped, head hanging.

"'Sides. . ."

"Sunny, go back to Arcee. I just can't deal with you right now," Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker started to reach out to his brother, but pulled back. He could suddenly feel how much his twin was hurting from what he'd said.

"I'm. . ."

"Sorry, yeah, I know, Sunny. You're always sorry. Let it go," Sideswipe said, walking away.

-----

:Where the frag are you? Back in your quarters? Because I just checked there. Get your aft to ops: Kup snarled.

Hot Rod was now fully awake. :I'm not in my quarters: he commed back. :What's up?:

:Not in your quarters?: Kup asked. :Slag it sparkling, three cometary forms just entered Earth's atmosphere:

:On my way: Hot Rod answered. He started to pull away from the recharging bulk of Optimus Prime, who stirred when he no longer felt a warm frame against his own.

"I'm needed in ops," Hot Rod said, giving Optimus' shoulder a squeeze. He waited a moment, watched as the other mech settled back into recharge. He exited Optimus' quarters, reluctant to leave, not wanting to walk away from the one comfort the Autobot leader was willing to share with him. Recharging together wasn't much, but it had to be enough. No matter. Hot Rod pushed it from his mind as he walked to ops, earning a glare from Kup as he entered the ancient mech's view.

"I thought I told you to comm me instead of coming to get me," Hot Rod said.

"What, sharing a berth with someone you don't want to admit to?" Kup asked.

"Kup, stow it," Hot Rod said. "What's going on? Have those cometary forms come down yet?"

"Less than 10 seconds ago on the North American continent," Kup said. "Southern Arizona, 57 miles southeast of Quartzsite. Before they entered the atmosphere, Blaster said the Xantium received a two-second data burst on a frequency used only by the Cybertronian Security Forces. I confirmed it--it's Hound, Mirage and Bluestreak."

"Does Prowl know?" Hot Rod asked.

"Not yet," Kup said.

"I'll tell him," Hot Rod said. "And sound the alert. We're wheels up in 20 minutes."

-----

Waking to find Sideswipe gone and an alert going off didn't help Prowl's already sour mood. Facing down a stubborn, insolent punk of a Prime wasn't helping. Prowl was anything but cool and logical as he bit back a retort while he listened to Rodimus explain his reasons for not letting him come on the retrieval mission.

"I need you here," Hot Rod said. "I trust you. Everyone, human and Autobot, trusts you. You know the routine, you can deal with Galloway and everything else until I get back. Prowl, you're the calmest, most logical mech on base."

"There's no reason why. . .it's Bluestreak. I thought he was gone. . ."

"I can think of plenty why you should stay here," Hot Rod said. "Now shut up and follow orders or I'll have you thrown in the brig for insubordination. I know you want to see your brother, but I like I said, I need you here. I promise I'll bring Blue back safe and sound."

Prowl shut his mouth, crossed his arms. "Who are you taking with you?"

"Ratchet, Jolt, Blurr. I don't want to leave you too thin if something else pops up," Hot Rod said. "And if Red gives you any problems and tries to get her aft back up to the Xantium, let Kup handle it. They've been avoiding each other for far too long."

"Anything else?" Prowl asked.

"No. . .well, yes. . .I'm sorry for how I handled everything with you and Jazz earlier. I had no right to interfere," Hot Rod said, clapping Prowl on the shoulder.

"No apologies needed," Prowl said. "But the sentiment is appreciated."

Hot Rod nodded, walking away.


	36. Chapter 36

Precipitous

Chapter 36-Complications

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ironhide was on the edge of recharge. He'd finally convinced Springer to go get some rest, promising he wouldn't try to leave the med bay. He onlined completely when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. They stopped when the mech making the noise stopped by his berth.

"Optimus, if you were trying to stealthy, you failed," Ironhide said, half-sitting. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you," Optimus said.

"I'm fine," Ironhide said. "I'll be even better if you'll help me get out of here. . ."

He sat completely up, swinging himself around, gingerly setting his right leg on the ground, testing it.

"Try it and if you fall, I'm leaving you there," Optimus said.

Ironhide grunted. "Some friend you are," he said.

Optimus grinned. "Crazy slagger. I won't help you and I'll be gone before Red Alert gets back," he said. "I fear her more than Ratchet."

"You're afraid of one tiny femme?" Ironhide said.

"That 'tiny femme' was trained by Ratchet and is the medic for the Wreckers," Optimus said. "If you want to cross her, go right ahead. I'm sure she'd like to use those cannons of yours for unauthorized medical procedures." Optimus fought hard to hold back his rising laughter at the look on Ironhide's face--a mix of horror and disbelief.

"No one touches my babies but me," Ironhide said, crossing his arms.

Optimus couldn't hold back anymore. He started laughing, earning himself a dirty look from his friend.

"Good thing my weapons systems are offlined or I'd be using those cannons to give *you* an unauthorized medical procedure," Ironhide said.

"Surely not," Optimus said, sitting down by Ironhide.

"Want to bet?" Ironhide muttered.

Optimus decided changing subjects was a sound tactic. Ironhide didn't like being teased about the size of his cannons.

"Where is Springer?" Optimus asked.

"I told him to go get some rest," Ironhide said.

"He actually left you alone knowing you'd try and leave?" Optimus said.

"I promised him I'd stay here, and damn it, if he doesn't trust me," Ironhide said.

"Leave the med bay without medical authorization and there is nothing I can do to help you," Optimus said.

"Won't help is more like it," Ironhide said. "You're Prime. Ratchet is not, although he seems to think he wields as much authority as you. He's a medic, a fine one, but have you ever considered maybe you've let him have too much authority when it comes to keeping your troops in his domain against their will?"

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe sometimes some of my troops don't have any common sense when it comes to what's best for them when they're injured?" he asked.

"Like who?" Ironhide asked, feigning innocence.

"I couldn't possibly imagine," Optimus said.

"Speaking of knowing what's best, why are you being so stubborn when it comes to a certain young Prime?" Ironhide said.

Optimus frowned, not liking the turn the conversation was taking. "Stubborn in what respect? If there is a stubborn Prime on this base, it is Rodimus," he said.

"You know what I'm getting at, or do I need to spell it out? He's attracted to you, if you haven't noticed. You two could be 'facing each other senseless right now," Ironhide said. "Bonded, maybe sparking a little Prime or two. . ."

"My personal life is not fodder for speculation," Optimus drawled, keeping his tone light, but the look in his optics said 'drop it 'Hide or you'll soon find yourself broken into so many pieces on the med bay floor no one will be able to put you back together.'

"My aft," Ironhide said, undeterred. His aft-headed best friend needed bashed over the processor with more than a little honesty. Prime or no Prime, Ironhide intended on making the slagger see, or die trying. He decided to try a different approach--guilt. Compassionate to a fault, Optimus couldn't bear the thought of anyone hurting, especially if he was the cause. Brilliant, Ironhide thought.

"Rodimus and I agreed. . ." Optimus started.

"No, more like *you* decided not to pursue a relationship once things were out in the open," Ironhide said. "Rodimus is probably keeping his feelings to himself out of respect for you. You're hurting him, and you don't even know it."

"I am aware of his feelings and we *both* agreed the pursuit of anything beyond a professional, working relationship is out of the question," Optimus said.

"Deny it all you like," Ironhide said. "You could be throwing away the best thing that's happened to you in a long time, and you don't even care. You're lucky you were given a second chance at life, and you throw it away."

"I'm not throwing anything away," Optimus said. "And don't bring up what happened in Egypt. You know how I feel about. . ."

Ironhide stood, facing his friend.

"Why do you have to be so thick?" Ironhide asked. "You haven't been the same since you came back from Egypt. I'm surprised Rodimus hasn't just put your head through a wall yet. That would knock some sense into you. . ."

He paused. It wasn't just Egypt that Optimus wouldn't talk about. It was what happened before that, protecting Sam, the battle with Megatron, Starscream and Grindor, dying--that Optimus never mentioned. Now that Ironhide thought about it, Optimus' death never came up. No one talked about it, including Optimus. And if Optimus didn't talk about it, did Rodimus even know?

"You haven't told him, have you?" Ironhide said, incredulous.

"What?" Optimus snapped.

"You haven't told Rodimus about dying, any of it, have you?"

Optimus stood, his expression unreadable. He walked past Ironhide without saying anything.

-----

Red Alert took one look at the lone mech occupying a table just inside the rec room entrance and started to turn around and leave. She heard the scraping of a chair being pulled out, stopped.

"Femme, I don't bite," Kup said.

She sighed, started to walk away again.

"You can't keep running," Kup said. "And I've never known you to back down from anything. So go ahead--prove me wrong."

The medic turned on her heel, walked over and sat down.

"Not so hard was it?" Kup said, offering the female Autobot a wry grin.

"Shouldn't a mech of your advanced age be getting some recharge?" Red Alert said.

"Too much to think about to rest," Kup said. "I just got off duty. What's your excuse for being up so late, or early?"

"0600 is not that early," Red Alert said. "And I don't have to give you a rundown of my itinerary for the day."

Kup snorted.

"At least I take my duties seriously, unlike some mechs I could name," Red Alert said, standing. She turned and walked away. She heard Kup hurrying to catch up with her. She stopped when she felt his hand on her arm.

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" Kup asked.

Red Alert didn't meet his optics. "Until I'm ready to forgive you," she said.

-----

Mid-afternoon. Frustrated, Prowl tossed aside the data pad containing the report he was working on. The events of the night before--his fight with Jazz and what had happened with Sideswipe weighed heavily on his mind. He needed to talk with Sideswipe, but both had their duties to attend. The fact Jazz and Drift had missed their scheduled communication check-in was also bothering him. Prowl was also trying to not think about Bluestreak.

Instead, he was kicking himself for letting his altercation with Jazz to escalate into a physical confrontation, and for not listening to him when had the chance and not going after Sideswipe when he found him gone. Logic had gone straight out the window. Why had he let everything get so complicated? That question would have to go unanswered. Prowl sighed when his office door chimed. Springer entered.

"What can I do for you?" Prowl asked.


	37. Chapter 37

Precipitous

Chapter 37-Muddled

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Being back in his chair felt good. Optimus Prime didn't have much time to enjoy the sensation of being back where he belonged because Kup entered his office, one hand on Arcee's shoulder, guiding the femme inside. Already standing before him were Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, with Springer between them, a death grip on each mech's arm. Optimus frowned at the look Sideswipe was giving his twin, and Sunstreaker occasionally tried to pull away from Springer.

Optimus sighed. With Rodimus still hours away from returning and Prowl now absent, it had fell to him to deal with the latest problem at hand. Or more like Springer didn't want to have to deal with it. The Autobot leader knew that wasn't the case, though. Springer had tried wringing the reason for Arcee's sudden burst of violence toward Sunstreaker from both the twins and the enraged femme, but to no avail. He didn't witness the incident, but Kup had, filling him in before going to help Springer round up all involved.

"So," Optimus began. "Anyone want to explain what's going on?"

Silence greeted him. He gazed at the assembled Autobots. Sideswipe was at attention, Springer no longer holding onto him. Sunstreaker kept glancing from his twin to Arcee, who glared back.

"If no one wants to offer an explanation, there will be consequences," Optimus said. Again, he waited, but this time, the silence was broken by the sound of footsteps and the appearance of another Autobot.

"You bet your aft there are going to be consequences," Red Alert said, hands on hip, glaring at her leader. "Slag-heads, all of you."

"Arcee, med bay in half an hour," she said. "I'm sure I won't have to come looking for you."

Turning her attention to the twins, she smacked Sunstreaker in the back of the head. "Keep your damn nose out of other's business. What Sideswipe does on his own time is none of your concern," Red Alert said. "Upset Arcee again like that, and you will answer to me. Are we clear?"

Sunstreaker frowned at the medic, but nodded, slowly backing out the door. Satisfied she'd gotten through to everyone else in the room, Red Alert turned her attention to Optimus Prime. Before he could get away, she was beside him, hand wrapped around one of his antennae, attempting to drag him from his chair.

"Get up or I'll have Springer and Kup help drag you back to the med bay," she said. "You won't have a shred of dignity or self-respect left by the time I'm done with you if you don't stand up."

He stood slowly, giving the female Autobot a look that he was certain was capable of stopping Decepticons in their tracks. And he took a step back when he felt the medic start to scan him.

"I thought so. . ." she said. "Energy levels low, your repair subroutines are strained, and did you get any recharge last night?"

She didn't stop when he didn't answer.

"You've been out of the med bay a day, and you strain yourself," Red Alert said. "You're not doing yourself any favors by acting this way. Have you any idea just how precarious your situation is? Has Ratchet explained, or do you not listen?"

"I feel fine," Optimus said. "I want to go back to work. . ."

"Med bay. Now."

-----

42 hours later

Four more hours before landing at base. Hot Rod didn't doubt the pilot's calculations. He'd run the numbers himself several times. He wanted out of the plane, wanted to be free, able to transform, move around. So much time tied down and he was getting restless. He hadn't recharged at all since leaving Diego Garcia, and he knew Graham hadn't slept either. A quick scan of the humans strapped nearby showed his friend was indeed awake, one of the few in the plane's cargo hold who wasn't sleeping. Almost two days without sleep did not bode well for the human. One more worry in the back of his processor.

It had been a long couple of days. The flight to get to Arizona, followed by an argument with Hound once they'd actually made contact with the three new Autobot arrivals. Considering the scout could barely stand, how he'd mustered the energy for a fight, Hot Rod couldn't figure. Desperation, worry, relief, who knew? Being confronted with one of his former subordinates in charge of a combat operation instead of the Autobot leader or an officer was probably a shock.

Mirage was in decent shape but Bluestreak had wounds which were being treated by Ratchet on the Xantium. Hound wouldn't talk about how the young mech got hurt, and he also had information he would share with no one but Optimus Prime. And hearing Hot Rod referred to as "Rodimus" hadn't set well either. It had only further confused and angered the usually amiable Hound.

Now, though, Hound was strapped down in the second C-17 winging its way back to Diego Garcia. Mirage had accompanied Ratchet and Blurr along with the unconscious Bluestreak up to the Xantium via orbital jump. Then there was the news Jazz and Drift had missed two communication check-ins. Things were not going well.

"You've been unusually quiet."

"Too much to think about," Hot Rod answered, scanning Graham. "And you should be asleep."

"You're not the only one that worries," Graham responded.

"I know," Hot Rod said.

"You're not alone, Rodimus," Graham said. "Remember that. I understand what you're going through. We share the same burden of leadership. It's not easy."

"Except you're not a Prime," Hot Rod said.

"No, but like you, I have to be prepared to step up if something happens to the officer above me. Even without having to deal with that, I still have my duties. And stop worrying. You handled the situation as well as you could. We've done our part, for now, so get some rest."

"I will if you will," Hot Rod retorted.

Graham gave him a tired smile. "I promise I'll try if you answer a couple of questions for me," he said.

"Ask away."

"Why did you request Prowl be given permission to go up to the Xantium? Is he close to Bluestreak?" Graham asked.

"Blue is Prowl's little brother," Hot Rod said. "They've been through a lot--especially Blue. He was the only survivor when the city of Praxus fell to the Decepticons."

Graham seemed content with that answer, and Hot Rod waited for more questions.

"What about the other two--Hound and Mirage? What are their functions?

"Hound was a unit commander in the security forces," Hot Rod explained. "Mirage is special ops, and they're bonded."

"Bonded?" Graham asked, making sure he'd heard right.

"Yeah, bonded," Hot Rod said. "I'm not explaining that one to Galloway."

"Neither am I," Graham said. "Not if I can help it."

"Anymore questions?" Hot Rod asked.

"No," Graham said.

"Then get some sleep," Hot Rod said.

Graham settled back in his seat, trying to get comfortable. A bonded pair. Perfect. How was he going to explain that one to his superiors?

-----

Optimus woke to the sound of voices--two familiar, one he hadn't heard in a very long time.

". . .I need to speak to Optimus," Hound said.

"He's recovering from injuries and it can wait," Ratchet said. "Or, there is another alternative. . ."

"No. Optimus. Now.

"Over my dead body," Hot Rod said.

Hound rounded on the younger mech. "You have no authority here," he said.

"He does too," Ratchet said, sighing. Obviously Rodimus hadn't bothered to explain anything. "Or have you forgotten how to show respect to your Prime?"

"Prime?" Hound said. "Optimus is Prime, not this, this sparkling."

Hot Rod, angry now, started to say something but he stopped when he saw Optimus rising off his berth. He backed away from the bigger mech, but was stopped when the bigger mech placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I have turned command over to Rodimus Prime while I recover from my injuries," Optimus said. "Treat him with the respect he deserves, Hound. I know you're confused, and whatever you have to say, Rodimus will listen. It can wait until morning. Rest, and all will be explained after."

Hound frowned, thinking a few seconds before backing down. He gave Optimus a faint smile, nodded at Ratchet and Hot Rod before heading in the direction of the quarters he and Mirage were assigned.

"I hope you intend to take your own advice," Ratchet said, turning his attention to Optimus. "Back to your berth. You, too, Rodimus. Recharge, or else."

-----

Out of the corner of his optic, Hot Rod could see Springer, standing over by the hangar door, arms crossed, seething.

:Get your aft over here: Hot Rod commed.

:No way in the Pit or hell: Springer replied. :You can deal with the squishy. I've had my fill. Make me do that again and I'll offline you. Permanently:

:Uh huh: Hot Rod said, unphased. :You only had to deal with Galloway for one day, Spring. One slagging meeting:

:Once was enough:

Hot Rod snorted, composing himself as the screen came alive, Galloway appearing from thousands of miles away.

"Rodimus," Galloway said. "Good to see you made it back in one piece. I believe you retrieved three more Autobots?"

"Yes, sir, three--Hound, Mirage and Bluestreak," Hot Rod said. "Hound and Mirage are here at base already, and both will be briefed on NEST this morning. Bluestreak is expected to come back online sometime today, and his status will be upgraded to operational when Ratchet thinks he's ready."

"What are their specialties?" Galloway asked.

"Hound is a combat unit leader and Mirage and Bluestreak are both special ops," Hot Rod said.

"Good," Galloway said. "And what is the status of Jazz's mission?"

"Ongoing," Hot Rod said.

"Ongoing? You don't have anything to report?"

"If there was anything to pass on, I would share it, but there has been no sign of any Decepticons," Hot Rod said.

"All right," Galloway said. "Oh, before I forget, is Springer there? He was supposed to tell me more about the orbital beaming technology on his ship. If he's not around, have him send me an e-mail. I want to know if this technology can be adapted so it won't kill humans. And one more thing--where is Capt. Graham?"

"Springer's here, waiting, sir, ready to give you your report. As to Graham, he's asleep, medic's orders," Hot Rod said. He turned to Springer, who walked over.

:I'm going to kill you:


	38. Chapter 38

Precipitous

Chapter 38-Queries

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Mirage woke, finding Hound sitting up on the edge of their berth. He sat up, rolled off the berth, came to face his bond mate, arms crossed at the look on Hound's face.

"If you're planning on going behind Ratchet's back and talk to Optimus, don't count on any sympathy from me," Mirage said.

Hound looked up, cocking an optic ridge. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

"I know you too well," Mirage said. "And don't bother Kup with this either. He's busy with drills this morning, so just talk to Hot Rod and get to the bottom of all this. Tell him what you were going to tell Optimus, and let it go from there."

"I wasn't going to go behind Ratchet's back," Hound said. "Optimus made it very clear I was to speak to Hot Rod today."

"Good," Mirage said, smiling at his mate. "I know you were confused over finding Hot Rod in charge, but you should be proud. How many combat unit leaders can say they had a Prime as their second in command? You had a hand in training him. Be glad of that. At least it's someone you like and trust that's in charge."

"I know," Hound said. "It was just a shock."

"Then go," Mirage said. "You and I are scheduled for a briefing with Kup and Prowl at 1330 to go over the partnership with NEST. Don't forget."

"I won't," Hound said, standing, giving Mirage's shoulder a squeeze as he passed by.

-----

Guilt. Wasn't necessary, Ratchet thought, staring down at the data pad in his hand. He called it doing the right thing, or making the attempt. The final decision wasn't made, and he would not take that step yet. He had the authority, but he wasn't ready to wield it, not until he'd exhausted his last few possibilities. Up to now, he'd been hopeful reason would win out, but it hadn't. Optimus Prime would not listen. Except that wasn't what bothered Ratchet the most. The depth of his leader's denial and resistance to deal with issues he needed to face were the problem. The medic knew he couldn't make Optimus do that. No, that would come when the Autobot leader was ready.

He left his office, walked down the corridor to Red Alert's quarters. Yet another Autobot who needed to deal with issues left long dormant. Well, at least the other half of _her _problem was trying to make amends. Locking herself in her quarters when she wasn't on duty was her way of not having to face that mech. Ratchet did allow himself a small smile at the thought of what he knew was waiting in store for Red Alert on that front. But enough. He rang the chime, waited for the other medic to answer the door.

She nodded as he entered.

"Here's all the data," Ratchet said, handing Red Alert the data pad. "Everything I have on Optimus Prime--routine maintenance, injuries, repairs, upgrades, all of it, from our time on the Ark to now. I don't need your opinion this minute, but I'd like it as soon as you can come up with a recommendation. I'm also sharing the data with Perceptor, and now that Wheeljack is awake, Perceptor is going to consult with him."

Red Alert took the data pad. "You're serious about this then," she said.

"I've never been more serious about anything in my life," Ratchet answered.

"Have you talked to Rodimus about this yet?" Red Alert said.

"No," Ratchet said. "But I will."

-----

Optimus Prime's office. Except it wasn't Optimus Prime behind the desk. Hot Rod was sitting there instead.

"Settling in all right?" Hot Rod asked, standing as Hound entered the office.

"Our quarters are adequate," Hound said. "And Mirage and I can't wait to see more of this planet."

"That's good to hear," Hot Rod said, sitting. "I don't mean to be blunt, but I have a busy day ahead of me, and whatever it is you needed to say to Optimus last night, you can tell me now."

"Same old Hot Rod," Hound said, giving the young Autobot a smile. "Still haven't learned tact, have you?"

"Apparently not," Hot Rod said, grinning back.

"You're going to have to fill me in on all that's happened," Hound said. "And now you need to know what I know. Six days ago, as we were on our approach to Earth, all three of us were scanning for Autobot communications, but instead, we managed to pick up a nanosecond-long burst on a Cybertronian frequency from among the moons of the sixth planet of this solar system--Saturn. The message was unintelligible, and against orders, Bluestreak broke off to go investigate. We followed him, only to find he'd been attacked, by a Decepticon--Skywarp. We fought him off, and proceeded on our way here."

Hot Rod frowned. "You think there might be more hiding out there?"

"Possibly," Hound said. "What is the status of Decepticons here on Earth?"

"Scattered and hiding," Hot Rod said. "Megatron is still alive, so is Starscream, but no one's heard or seen anything of them since the battle in Egypt."

"Egypt?" Hound asked.

Hot Rod smiled. "It'll be explained at the briefing this afternoon with Prowl," he said. "But this is disturbing news. One Seeker means the others can't be far away."

He didn't voice what else he was thinking. Megatron's Seekers never strayed far from him.

"You'll pass along this information to Optimus?" Hound asked.

"This is too important for him to not hear it," Hot Rod said. "I'll deal with Ratchet. Go spend some time with Mirage before the briefing, enjoy some time to yourselves. It'll be a couple of days before you're both up to speed on everything, so get out of here."

Hound nodded, satisfied, leaving Hot Rod alone.

-----

Graham checked his watch for the seventh time, yawned, reached for his cup of coffee. He took a sip, half-listening as Prowl explained NEST's current command structure. The briefing was about a third of the way through--the parts about mission protocol and duty assignments were yet to come. Also, Prowl had distributed data pads with every mission report since the Autobots' arrival to Earth to Kup, Hound and Mirage, telling the three mechs that the material was required reading, although they could peruse it at their leisure.

That got the human's attention. Prowl telling his fellow Autobots to read reports at their leisure had him wondering if he was hallucinating. Sleep deprivation was known to cause them, wasn't it? Come to think of it, Prowl was skimming a little on the details, trying to shorten the briefing. Not like him at all, Graham thought. Well, from what he'd heard, Prowl hadn't been himself since his epic argument with Jazz. Rumors aside, Graham chalked it up to the presence of the second in command's baby brother on base. He'd seen the young mech before the briefing, in the med bay, arguing with Ratchet, trying to get Optimus Prime to agree with him. Ratchet. Graham smiled at that thought. A livid Ratchet ranting about sparklings and how they didn't listen. . .great. He was drifting. Sleep sounded good. He was going straight back to his bunk once the lecture was over. And from the way Kup was tapping his fingers on the table, he wanted out, too. That wasn't all he noticed. Kup had an indescribable look in his optics as he stared down at the data pad in front of him. Graham filed it away for future reference. It was his turn to talk.

-----

"What're you still doing here?" Springer asked. "It's after 2100. You were supposed to be off shift more than an hour ago."

Hot Rod looked up from the stack of data pads in front of him.

"I'm going over reports from the past few months. Some of them Kup hacked. I just wanted to know why he's been going through them, and there's other information I'm looking for," Hot Rod said.

"Like what?" Springer asked.

"I don't know," Hot Rod said.

"Don't worry about it," Springer said. "You know Kup. Probably bored out of his mind and thought he'd give Prowl something to do."

"Yeah," Hot Rod said, forcing a grin.

"Are you close to being done?" Springer asked.

"Not really," Hot Rod said. "I still need to go talk to Optimus."

"About?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Hot Rod muttered.

"OK. . ." Springer said. "I'll leave you to it."

Hot Rod sat back in his chair, feeling guilty. He was procrastinating now. He hadn't yet told Optimus of Hound's news, nor had he shared it with anyone else. He knew he should've gone straight to Optimus when he had the chance, but what could the Autobot leader do that he couldn't? Hopefully provide insight, Hot Rod thought. He'd waited long enough. He stood, strode from the office, heading for the med bay.

-----

Bluestreak lay on his ventral side on Prowl's berth, chin propped up on one hand, watching his brother go over reports. Except Prowl had been staring at the same data pad for more than 20 minutes, absentmindedly scrolling up and down through the data. He decided to give his brother a little more time before taking action. The young mech still had much to think about, Prowl's current behavior just one of many things to go over. His day, once he'd woken up and cleared by Ratchet, had included the orbital jump to Earth, his new home, followed by meeting as many of his new human allies as possible. Then he'd managed to see just about everyone on base from Optimus Prime in the med bay to hunting down Arcee to ask her in person if it was true she was really carrying an offspring and it was twins and the sire was Sunstreaker and then he'd seen Sunstreaker who was quieter than usual and then Sideswipe, who seemed glad to see him but had shut up when he saw Prowl and made excuses to leave. That was unusual.

Five more minutes passed. Prowl was still staring at the same spot on his data pad.

"What's bothering you?" Bluestreak asked.

Prowl jumped, startled, dropping the data pad. Bluestreak rolled off the berth, snatched it off the floor, sub-spacing it.

"Nothing," Prowl said.

"Uh huh," Bluestreak said. "That report couldn't have been that interesting. Something's up. Sideswipe's avoiding you and you're not talking to Jazz. . .well, kinda hard to talk to Jazz when he's not here. Where is Jazz anyway?"

"Reconnaissance mission with Drift," Prowl said, crossing his arms.

"One of the Wreckers? Alone?" Bluestreak said, smacking his forehead. "You just let him go?"

"I didn't 'let' Jazz do anything," Prowl said. "He requested the mission, which Rodimus approved."

"Hot Rod's crazier than I thought," Bluestreak said. "Rodimus? Really. Who came up with that? Did you come up with that, or was it Optimus? Or Kup? He might be a Prime, but he's still Hot Rod. . .oh, uh, I was saying. . .Jazz. . .what happened? You and Jazz and Sideswipe are close. I can't imagine anything that could happen that would make you three stop talking to each other. I mean you're all friends and it would be weird if something changed and wait a minute. . ."

Bluestreak tilted his head, suddenly deep in thought. He'd heard the rumors about Jazz having a fight with Prowl, was going to ask but he'd been so interested in Arcee's twins he forgot to ask and then he'd noticed 'Sides wasn't speaking to Prowl. . .something had definitely happened. . .something big. . .his optics widened. Certainly not. . .He rounded on his brother.

"Who interfaced with who?" Bluestreak asked, arms crossed.

Taken aback by the question, Prowl was too surprised to answer quickly.

"C'mon, Prowlie, who was it? Is that why Jazz left?" Bluestreak said.

"Blue, let's not talk about that," Prowl said.

"Don't 'Blue' me," Bluestreak said. "I'm not a sparkling. I'm not stupid. What happened?"

"It's my business," Prowl said, standing.

"My aft," Bluestreak said. "If you're not going to tell me, I'll go ask Sideswipe."

"Don't you dare," Prowl said, but Bluestreak was already gone


	39. Chapter 39

Precipitous

Chapter 39-Restraint

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet looked up from the data pad in his hands when he heard footsteps. He came out of his office, seeing Rodimus Prime standing inside the door, looking confused.

"Where's Optimus?" Hot Rod asked.

"In his quarters," Ratchet said. "At least he better be."

"You let him out of here again?" Hot Rod said.

"Optimus said he can rest better in his own quarters," Ratchet said.

"You believed him?"

"Don't you rest better in your own quarters?"

"It depends," Hot Rod answered.

"If you'd like to talk to Optimus, he's still awake, at least he was half an hour ago when I went to check on him," Ratchet said. "Ironhide was there, talking with him."

"Thanks, Ratch," Hot Rod said, leaving the med bay. He was still unsure of how to proceed with the intelligence given him by Hound. Hot Rod knew he was going to earn himself a lecture regardless of the route he chose. He could wait to tell Optimus. It was late, and getting him worked up would serve no real purpose. Instead, he commed Blaster, asking him to get Graham. Then he commed Prowl. He sighed. A leader's work was never done.

-----

Prowl nearly caught up with Bluestreak when his internal comm went off. He slowed. It was getting late, and if it was important, whoever it was could just. . .what was he thinking? He was the second in command of the Autobot forces, and personal matters took a back seat to duty. He stopped.

:What?: he asked.

:Have a few minutes?:

Prowl stiffened, fists clenched at his sides. Rodimus.

:What's going on?: Prowl asked.

:There's something you need to hear. It's important, otherwise I wouldn't be bothering you. Meet me in Prime's office:

:I'll be there shortly: Prowl answered.

-----

Sideswipe rolled off his berth, swearing as he walked toward the door. The incessant chiming was damn annoying and he was going to give the offending mech a piece of his mind. He hit the release, frowned when the door slid open, revealing Bluestreak.

The young mech barged inside.

"You better shut the door and your mouth," Bluestreak said. "What's going on with Prowl and you and Jazz? Prowl wouldn't answer me, but it makes sense because Jazz and I heard he fought with Prowl and now he's gone and you two aren't talking so. . ."

"What makes sense?" Sideswipe finally managed.

"Somebody interfaced with somebody, right?" Bluestreak said.

"Blue, I don't think. . ."

"Don't think, answer the question," Bluestreak said. "I've never seen Prowl like this before. Ever. Or you. . ."

Sideswipe watched as Blue suddenly fell silent. The moment was remarkable because Bluestreak almost never shut up. Prowl had mentioned more than once his younger brother even talked when recharging. In this instance, Blue was silent because he'd come up with the possible reason for Prowl and Sideswipe's behavior.

"Was it you and Prowlie?" Bluestreak asked. "It's OK if it was, because he needs to unwind, and you like each other, but. . ."

He trailed off. Sideswipe was now sitting on his berth, shoulder slumped.

Bluestreak sat down beside him. "What's wrong? If you to did, what's the problem?"

"We did," Sideswipe said, staring at the floor. "I do care about Prowl, thought he might want to move past being just friends, but maybe he doesn't see me as being serious about anything. Maybe Sunny was right, and I just need to get over this notion. . .and Jazz. . .maybe he's jealous. I thought Prowl had talked to him, but I guess not. . ."

Bluestreak put an arm around Sideswipe. "'Sides, it'll be all right," he said. "C'mon. We can sort through this mess while you show me to the lab. I think we owe Prowlie and Sunny the mother of all pranks."


	40. Chapter 40

Precipitous

Chapter 40-Protract

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Slow night, Kup reflected, pacing through ops, glancing around the control center, checking up on his charges. Perceptor had a data pad in his hands, swiftly flicking through the information on it, optics dimming occasionally as he commed someone. Sunstreaker and Jolt were actually doing their duty. Blaster looked busy, but it was hard to tell if he was actually doing what he was supposed to--monitoring communications.

However, the ancient mech's interest was piqued when he saw Prowl coming his way, Capt. Graham hard pressed to keep up. The human passed the other Autobots without a greeting. Not that Kup could blame him--he looked unhappy.

Blaster also noticed Prowl and the human passing through. He looked up at Kup, meeting his optics.

:Wonder what's going on?: Blaster said.

:Nothing good from the looks of it. Or not. I hope so: Kup answered. :They're headed for Prime's office:

:Want me to walk by and see?: Blaster said.

:No. I'll drag it out of Hot Rod when I get a chance:

-----

Prowl stood, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, tension in his frame belying the composed look on his face. Graham paced. Human and Autobot second in command listened while Hot Rod briefed them on Hound's intelligence.

"That's all?" Prowl asked.

"I can go get Hound and he can repeat it to you," Hot Rod said, annoyed.

"Saturn's moons?" Graham asked. "How are we supposed to monitor moons around a planet millions of miles away?"

"The Xantium can be used to scan for communications on frequencies undetectable by human technology," Prowl said. "Also, with our scientific and engineering capabilities, finding anything out of place on the planet or its moons is possible. It might take time, but it can be accomplished."

"So we just tell Galloway we need a really big telescope to look for Decepticons?" Graham said.

"I wish it were that simple," Prowl said. "Capt. Graham, if you don't mind, I'd like a few minutes alone with Rodimus."

Graham met Hot Rod's optics. Hot Rod shrugged.

"Sure," Graham said, suddenly unsure about leaving his friend alone with Prowl. "I'll just see myself out."

Prowl nodded, waited until the human was gone, then centered his attention on Rodimus Prime. "You've been in possession of this information since this morning and didn't think it important enough to pass along until now?" Prowl said.

"It's not that I didn't think it was important," Hot Rod said. "I wasn't sure what to do. . ."

Prowl vented air, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He counted backward from 10, trying hard to keep his composure.

"If you were unsure, then why didn't you come to me? I'm your second in command," Prowl said. "It's my job to help disseminate information, offer advice. I'm not here to just write reports and be a pain in your aft."

"I'm sorry. . ." Hot Rod started, but the look in Prowl's optics silenced him.

"And do you have any idea what Galloway will say when he finds out you had this information and withheld it? He will take this and use it against you," Prowl said. "I don't mean to criticize, but you're young and inexperienced, and not used to dealing with beings like Galloway. . ."

"Prowl, shut up," Hot Rod said. "I'm aware I've made a mistake, and I don't need it thrown back in my face. If you don't have anything constructive to offer, take Graham back to the barracks and go get some rest. I'll deal with Galloway myself."

Prowl nodded stiffly, excused himself without a word.

-----

The drive to the barracks was a short one. Graham didn't ask Prowl about his exchange with Rodimus, but he knew the Autobot second in command well enough to realize his silence was caused by more than just annoyance with a superior. Prowl pulled up by the barracks, but Graham didn't get out.

"Prowl, everything all right?" he asked. "If you need to talk, I can spare a few minutes."

"Your offer is appreciated, but you need rest more than I need to unburden myself," Prowl said. "And don't forget--my brother is here, and I need to get back and make sure he hasn't gotten himself into any trouble."

Graham smiled. "I've been cautioned Bluestreak and the twins are notorious pranksters," he said.

"Indeed," Prowl said. "So you see why I must get back."

"Yeah," Graham said, climbing out. "'Night Prowl, thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome."

-----

Hot Rod winced as Galloway's raised his voice. Several of the human techs on the communications platform looked his way, offering their sympathy.

"Why didn't you bring this intelligence to our attention earlier? Time is of the essence," Galloway said. "What kind of dog and pony show are you running out there? I'll be there day after tomorrow."

Hot Rod turned and walked out of the hanger as the screen went dark. He transformed, speeding back to the Autobot hangar. Once there, he returned to his bipedal form, hoping to make it to his quarters without any interruptions. He needed a little time to clear his head and probably get it removed by Prowl when he informed the second in command Galloway was coming to Diego Garcia.

He was punching in the access code to his quarters when someone commed him.

:Rodimus?:

Optimus. Great.

:Yeah?: Hot Rod answered.

:Checking if you were still up. Is everything all right?: Optimus asked.

:Depends on your definition of "all right": Hot Rod said.

:What's going on?: Optimus said.

:Have a little time?: Hot Rod said. :We need to talk:

-----

Optimus Prime's expression was unreadable. Hot Rod kept talking, filling in the other Autobot, trying to keep from pacing.

"I understand why Galloway's so worked up, but it was an incredibly short burst of communications," Hot Rod said. "Skywarp could be gone by now, and it's been nearly a year since anyone's seen Megatron. You defeated him yourself. . ."

"Or that burst of communication could mean there are more Decepticons in hiding in this solar system," Optimus said. "I'm glad you've admitted your mistake, but that does not make up for the fact you underestimated the importance of the information passed on to you. Rodimus, You've been doing well, but you still have much to learn."

Hot Rod frowned. "You know, Prowl already pointed that out once, and I don't need to be reminded again," he said. "I said I'm sorry. . ."

"Which will not make up for the fact Galloway is coming," Optimus said. "You think he's unpleasant from thousands of miles away. . ."

"Yeah, can't wait to meet him in person," Hot Rod said.

"You will be courteous and respectful while he's here," Optimus said.

"I won't be a doormat," Hot Rod said. "Sounds to me like Galloway's walked all over you and everyone else here on base."

Suddenly, Optimus stood, walked over, optics dark.

"You, Rodimus Prime," he said, shoving a finger into the armor of Hot Rod's chest as he talked, emphasizing each word. "Need to remember your place. You are a Prime, and right now, you are in charge. Must I remind you of that yet again? You are no longer a subordinate, and cannot get away with acting like. . .like a delinquent. Galloway is the national security advisor to the American president, one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful human on the planet. You will act with proper decorum while in his presence or you will answer to me."

Hot Rod glared up at the bigger mech, trying not to feel cowed. He drew himself up to his full height, which was no small feat, considering he barely reached up to the Autobot leader's shoulder.

"And you need to realize I am not going to let Galloway continue to treat us and the humans we serve with with anything less than respect," Hot Rod said. "He's disregarding your orders--keeps pressing for more information on our weapons and technology, puts down the way we do things, makes me second guesses every decision I make, and you want me to be courteous. . ."

"I _expect _you to be courteous," Optimus said, trying hard to keep his voice even.

"Fine," Hot Rod said. "I'll try."

"You will do more than try," Optimus said.

"Can't you just let it go?" Hot Rod said. "He's not here yet. It's late, and I'm in no mood to argue anymore. I'll see you tomorrow."

He shouldered past Optimus, who didn't try to stop him as he passed by.


	41. Chapter 41

Precipitous

Chapter 41-Concede

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

:Blue, where are you?:

Bluestreak ignored the comm from Prowl, concentrating his attention on the lock to the storage room that served as Perceptor's lab.

:Bluestreak, if you do not answer, I'm coming for you:

"Wow," Blue said to Sideswipe, who was standing guard. "Prowlie's getting annoyed I'm not answering."

"What the slag do you expect?" Sideswipe hissed. "You're not even here on this planet one full day before doing something stupid."

Blue grinned up at Sideswipe. "Yeah, usually it's the other way around," he said. "Look at it this way, 'Sides, I'm trying to help," he said.

"How? By getting our afts thrown in the brig? I think Prowl's already pissed at me enough without adding this to it," Sideswipe said. "And he'll blame me for this little break-in."

"Have to get caught to get blamed," Bluestreak said. "Plus I don't think Prowlie's angry with you. Avoiding you, yes, but you know that's how he deals when he can't deal with his emotions. He pushes away those he cares about. . ."

He stopped, feeling a hand tighten on his shoulder, tried to look over at Sideswipe, who was now similarly restrained.

"What in the Pit do you two think you're doing?" Prowl asked, face emotionless.

-----

Hot Rod felt someone shaking him.

"Hot Rod, lad, what are you doing here?" Kup asked. "Something the matter? The rec room's hardly suitable for a decent recharge."

"Couldn't recharge in my quarters because Springer was. . .busy. . .and I don't think I was welcome where I'd been before that," Hot Rod said.

"Get thrown out of that berth you were sharing the other night?" Kup asked.

"No," Hot Rod said.

"So who are you seeing?" Kup said.

"No one," Hot Rod answered.

"So it's nothing serious," Kup said. "A casual relationship still counts as a relationship."

"It's not even that," Hot Rod said. "It's. . .complicated."

Kup noticed Hot Rod suddenly shift away from him, the spike in his energy field, the firm set to his jaw. He followed the young mech's line of vision, seeing Optimus Prime standing inside the doorway, Ironhide with a hand on his shoulder, trying to drag the other mech away.

"Gotta go, Kup," Hot Rod said. "Get some rest. We need to talk later."

"Indeed we do lad," Kup said, but Hot Rod did not hear.

-----

Ironhide's firm grip on his shoulder was all that kept Optimus Prime from following Rodimus.

"Leave him alone," Ironhide said. "And if you don't tell me what's going on this time, I will haul you to Ratchet."

"Rodimus has suffered from yet another error in sound judgment," Optimus said.

"Meaning?" Ironhide said.

"Not relaying intelligence along the proper channels," Optimus said.

"That doesn't seem like much of a reason for the look in his optics," Ironhide said.

"Ironhide. . ."

"Fine," Ironhide said, letting go. "Follow him. Get your aft handed to you. He'll do it. Believe me, I'm just waiting for that to happen. I hope I have a front row seat when it does. Because you deserve it."

Optimus started to snap back, but Ironhide was already gone. He vented air, sighing, turning to head back to his quarters. He heard footsteps, guessed it was Kup trying to catch up with him.

"Got someplace to be so early?" Kup asked, falling into step beside the bigger mech. "I thought you were out of the med bay on the condition you'd rest."

"I am," Optimus said. "But I needed to speak with Rodimus."

"Can't it wait?" Kup said. "Lad looks like he could use some time alone. And from the way he was looking, I don't think I'd go near him right now. If you can't figure it out, Hot Rod spent the night in the rec room. I gather he got thrown out of someone's quarters. I don't suppose you know whose?

"That's his business," Optimus replied.

"So you do know then," Kup said. "Who's he seeing?"

Optimus stopped, turning to face Kup. "Is this really necessary?" he asked. "Kup, as you said, I need to rest, and you just got off duty so. . ."

Kup crossed his arms, optic ridge raised, his suspicions now aroused by Optimus' deflection of a simple question.

"What's going on between you two?" he asked.

-----

Jazz felt a little guilty for not following orders. Missing communications check-ins probably had the others worrying back at base, but he was special ops. At least that's what he kept telling himself. Several days gone, and still no sign of the Combaticons. It was like they'd disappeared. He and Drift found no trace, and now, Jazz was considering packing it in, except he wasn't ready to go back, didn't want to go back, couldn't face Prowl. He'd said some things he regretted, hadn't voiced a few things he should've said. Enough was enough.

:Drift, time to head back to base: Jazz commed.

:Want me to contact the Xantium?: Drift answered.

:ASAP:

A few seconds later, the two Autobots were no longer tooling down a road in rural Mexico. They materialized on the Xantium, Drift nodding to Jazz before he was bounced back down to Diego Garcia.


	42. Chapter 42

Precipitous

Chapter 42-Summation

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime regarded Kup calmly, wanting to avoid a confrontation. The look in Kup's optics suggested more than a little suspicion and rising anger.

"Rodimus and I had a disagreement last night regarding some intelligence he failed to pass on in a timely manner," Optimus said.

"My aft," Kup said. "The way Hot Rod was looking at you suggests otherwise. Why do I get the feeling there's something more between you than just a disagreement over protocol? It looks like it to me."

"Nothing is going on," Optimus said. "Not what you're implying. We share a working relationship, nothing more."

"It looks like something more," Kup said. "If it's not, why isn't it?"

Optimus frowned. "Kup, enough," he said. "I'm not talking about this right now. . ."

He turned to walk away, but Kup grabbed him by the arm, stopping him.

"No, we'll discuss this _now_," Kup said. "You've been putting me off long enough. I've never seen Hot Rod this angry and you this closed off. I have more than a few questions you need to answer--like what's your name doing on a fatality list, and what is Hot Rod doing carrying the Matrix of Leadership?"

Optimus rounded on the ancient mech, lost for words, panic playing across his face and in his optics for a fraction of a second.

"Lad, I know what happened," Kup said. "I've read the reports, but I want to hear it from you. And from the looks of things, you need to talk about it. So c'mon. We're going to go have a little talk."

-----

Hot Rod snapped the stylus in his hands in two. He disregarded the fact it was Optimus Prime's favorite stylus. A tiny act of defiance, a childish one, but an act of defiance nonetheless. He was sitting in Optimus Prime's seat, in his office, in his _place_. And he'd never felt so out of place in his life. I'm not cut out for this, he thought. Hardly.

He smashed his fist into the desk, laid his head in his hand, venting air, sighing in frustration. He had yet to inform Prowl and Graham of Theodore Galloway's impending arrival, which was not going to be pleasant. Prowl was distracted lately, and this wasn't going to help. Graham wouldn't likely say much, just do his job as usual. He might say something about it when they were off duty and alone, but not until.

Maybe the Decepticons would make an appearance somewhere before Galloway arrived? Not likely, Hot Rod mused. He wasn't that lucky. Hadn't been in a very long time.

His reverie was broken when someone commed him.

:Thought you'd wanna know what the cat dragged in: Blaster said.

:What?: Hot Rod asked.

:Jazz is back, bounced from the Xantium a few minutes ago. He's on his way:

:Thanks: Hot Rod said.

Seconds later, Jazz walked in the open door, threw himself down in the chair across from Hot Rod.

"You missed every communications check-in you were assigned," Hot Rod said.

Jazz gave him a wan smile. "You should know that's kinda hard to do when working in deep cover," he said.

"That aside, it's good to see you," Hot Rod said. "Any luck?"

"No," Jazz said. "Every lead went cold. How's everything here?"

"The same," Hot Rod said. "Well, mostly. The night you left Hound, Mirage and Bluestreak landed."

"That's good news," Jazz said. "Bet Prowl's happy."

"Yeah, he is," Hot Rod said. "About that, anyway."

Jazz sat up in his chair, interested now. "What's happened?"

"Jazz, go get some energon, get a little rest," Hot Rod said. "You'll find out eventually. I've scheduled a briefing for 0900, and I'll explain everything."

"OK," Jazz said, rising. He nodded at Hot Rod, taking his leave.

-----

Bluestreak smiled sweetly at Prowl, trying to break his resolve. Usually, it didn't take much, but this time, his brother was being more obstinate than usual.

"How many times do I have to repeat myself?" Prowl asked. "Whose I idea was it to break into the lab?"

"Keep repeating, Prowlie," Bluestreak said.

"Do you want to join Sideswipe in the brig?"

Bluestreak shrugged. "It would beat watching you mope," he said.

Prowl glared. "I. Am. Not. Moping," he said, clipping each word as he said it, but stopped. Bluestreak watched as his brother's optics blanked for a few seconds.

"I have to go," Prowl said. "Rodimus has called a briefing, it shouldn't take long. We'll finish this when I return."

-----

Fifteen minutes felt like hours. Hot Rod looked around the table at the assembled mechs and one human. Prowl was unreadable, not surprising, because he already knew about the information Hound had passed along, and had already guessed Galloway would probably react as he had. And he'd ignored Jazz, completely, hadn't even acknowledged his presence. Notable and more than unusual, Hot Rod reflected.

Jazz looked unfazed, but his posture suggested otherwise. Kup was clearly distracted and had been livid when he'd commed him about the briefing. Now that it was over, the ancient mech was already out the door. Hot Rod watched as Springer and Ironhide followed him out the door. Prowl left next, walked right past Jazz without a word. The third in command went after him, leaving Hot Rod alone with Graham.

"At least there isn't a morning teleconference today," the human offered.

"That would've been preferable to this," Hot Rod said.

"What's going on with everyone this morning?" Graham asked.

"I think I pulled Kup away from something important, although I can't imagine what that might be, and Prowl and Jazz clearly have something they need to work out between them," Hot Rod said.

"I hope the day gets better," Graham said. "But I that's only wishful thinking on my part."

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "Don't forget to forward me the latest supply lists, and it shouldn't be too hard to give Galloway the updates he wants. He wants information on our full operational status, he's going to get it down to the last nut and bolt."

-----

Kup caught Springer carrying a box of belongings down the corridor. Strange, but he didn't stop to ask him about it as he made his way to Optimus Prime's quarters. They'd barely begun their discussion when Hot Rod commed him for the briefing, but now, that was going to change. He was going to wring what he wanted from his Prime, come hell or high water, as the humans said. Optimus' door was open, and Kup found his leader sitting on his berth, reading a data pad.

Kup keyed his command override code into the door pad, went over to Prime's desk, pulled out the chair. He dragged it over in front of the door, turned it around, sat down, folding his arms across the back.

"If you want out of here, you're going to have to go through me," he said. "And you're not going anywhere until we set a few things straight, so you might as well get comfortable."

Optimus set aside his data pad. "It appears I have no choice, do I?"

"We can sit here and stare at each other until the chaos-bringer comes calling, or you can make it easy and start answering questions," Kup said. "So let's start off with something simple--why so much ire between you and Hot Rod?"

Optimus stared at the floor a few seconds before answering. He couldn't evade Kup forever, so he started talking.

"We've had a difficult relationship since he arrived," Optimus said. "Becoming Prime hasn't been easy on Rodimus, and. . ."

"You haven't exactly made it easy for him," Kup said. "I should bust your aft for it, too, but that's not the answer I want to hear. You should've been _helping_ each other all this time. . ."

"There is not protocol on how to deal with such a matter," Optimus said.

"No, there isn't," Kup said. "I think there's another reason, which lines up with intelligence I've been given from a couple of different sources. This intelligence corroborates what I've seen myself--you're attracted to each other, aren't you?"

Optimus started to say something, but he stayed silent.

"Lad, it's all right if you are," Kup said. "And by not sayin' a damn thing, you've answered my question. So if you two share that attraction, why haven't you done something about it?"

Optimus met his optics. "We agreed to keep our relationship as it is now," he said. He offlined his optics a second. Who was he kidding? Kup wouldn't take that as an answer.

"Lad. . ."

"Kup, our relationship, as you said, has not been easy, and such a complication, I think, would only make things worse," Optimus said.

"Or you could be depriving yourself of something good," Kup said. "How long have you been alone? And have you even talked to anyone about what's happened to you over the past year?"

"Kup, I don't want to know how you found out, or how much you know, but that is over and done, and I feel no need to talk about it with anyone," Optimus said.

Kup stood, walked over, sat down on the berth beside Optimus. He reached up, grabbed the other Autobot's face in his hands.

"Lad, you _died_," he said. "And the Matrix. . .it was used to revive you, wasn't it?"

Optimus nodded, started to shake, sank against Kup. He wrapped his arms around the younger mech.

"Lad, it's all right," Kup said.

-----

Springer popped into Optimus Prime's office, not surprised to see his friend still working through his mid-day break.

"What do you want?" Hot Rod asked.

"Thought you'd like to take a short break," Springer said, leaning against the door frame.

"Don't have time," Hot Rod answered.

"You don't even have time to hear that I'm moving out of our quarters?" Springer said.

Hot Rod's head snapped up from the report he was reading.

"What?"

"Yeah," Springer said. "After you walked in on 'Hide and I last night, we talked it over, and I'm moving into his quarters. That way you have your own space, and can hopefully avoid spending another night in the rec room."

"Ironhide told you?"

"Yeah," Springer said.

"I'm sorry to see you go," Hot Rod said.

Springer grinned. "No you're not. You're just glad it means you won't have to worry about walking in on us anymore," he said.

"True," Hot Rod said. "But I hope this means you're going to tell Kup now?"

"Maybe," Springer said.

"He deserves to know," Hot Rod said.

"I know," Springer said. "I better let you get back to work. I'll bring you back some energon."

"Thanks," Hot Rod said, getting back to work.

-----

Red Alert walked into Ratchet's office, sat down in the chair across from his desk. She returned the data pad he'd given her several days before.

"You've gone over all the data?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes," Red Alert said.

"Your recommendation?"

"I concur with your initial evaluation, and taking into consideration the engineering and scientific data from Perceptor and Wheeljack, and my second recommendation still stands," Red Alert said.

"He won't stand for an evaluation," Ratchet said.

"He's going to have to deal with it," Red Alert said. "Need I remind *you* of protocol? Back before the war, anyone who went through this much trauma would be pulled from active duty, pending a full physical recovery and mental evaluation before being allowed to resume their duties. I know you can disregard my opinion, but I still think counseling should be an option."

"I should let you do this, then," Ratchet said.

"You're CMO, not me," Red Alert said.

"Thanks for reminding me," Ratchet said. He stood, picking up the data pad. "Wish me luck."


	43. Chapter 43

Precipitous

Chapter 43-Fluctuation

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime pushed Kup away.

"You should go," Optimus said. "I've said too much."

Kup frowned. "Seems to me you haven't said enough," he said. "Optimus, lad, what's made you so reluctant to talk about everything that's happened?"

Optimus sighed. "If I ask you to leave, you won't, will you?"

"Keeping everything bottled up inside is only going to make it worse," Kup said. "You have friends, people who care about you, who you can talk to. . ."

"What has happened is my burden to bear," Optimus said.

Kup frowned. "The humans have a saying--'a burden shared is a burden halved,'" he said. "

"I don't need to dwell upon the past, or concern anyone else with my problems," Optimus said. "Kup, I thank you for your concern, but. . ."

"But what? Talking out things means you're showing weakness?" Kup asked.

"I am Prime," Optimus said. "I must be strong. . ."

"What you're being is stupid and stubborn," Kup said, standing. "You need to deal with everything you've been through--it doesn't matter how, lad, I know you will when you're ready, but you won't move on until you do."

"Kup. . ." Optimus said, a warning in his tone.

"You know I'm right," Kup said. "You need some sense knocked into that head of yours about Hot Rod and everything else, you're just too stubborn to see it, or maybe you do, and you don't want to have to face up to it. You're not alone, you never have been. You've always just been too afraid of letting anyone in. I can't say I blame you, not when you've been betrayed by your own brother, but you can't keep going like this. It's no way to live."

Optimus glowered at Kup. "Are you finished?" he asked.

"For now," Kup said. "Just think about what I've said, please?"

"I will," Optimus said.

Kup smiled at him, squeezed his shoulder, leaving his quarters. Optimus watched him go, more than a little unnerved by just how close Kup had cut to the heart of the matter. He was acutely aware of how he'd treated Rodimus--on one hand, he'd treated him the way he had because nothing he'd ever done had prepared him to deal with the advent of another Prime. On the other, it was because as the months had dragged on, he'd started to feel a little attraction toward the other Prime, small, yet it was there. However, his rationale was he and Rodimus were too different to have anything besides a professional, working relationship. A part of him still stood by that reasoning, but now, he wasn't so sure.

And the other. . .his death. . .He hadn't discussed that with anyone. How could he when no one around him could understand what he'd been through? Optimus couldn't even begin to understand it himself. Since the beginning of the war, he'd always expected to die in battle, had resigned himself to that fate. Dying at the hands of his own brother. . .He shuddered. Megatron followed through on a promise he'd made more than once, while he, Optimus Prime, couldn't even bring himself to do what he knew he must--destroy his own brother.

That, he knew, was a prospect he would have to face again sometime. And when it came, he would not back down next time.

-----

Hot Rod stretched, feeling and hearing his shoulder joints and back struts pop. 2037. Not good. He hadn't had a break or energon in more than nine hours, and if Ratchet found out, there would be hell to pay. He was mostly done with his report for Galloway, and he knew it by heart by now. He thought about passing it along to Prowl to check for any inaccuracies, but decided against it. The second in command had his own paperwork to deal with. Not much more to do now besides go grab some energon and hope everyone on base realized their best behavior was going to be needed the next few days.

Good behavior. . .Hot Rod groaned. He'd released Sideswipe from the brig himself, behind Prowl's back, with the warning to stay out of trouble or else. Prowl. Still distracted and acting like Jazz didn't exist. Clearly something personal was going on, and Hot Rod had no intentions of getting in the middle of it unless required. Hopefully they would work out their issues on their own, but something told the young Autobot that probably would not happen.

Then there were his own issues. Like Optimus Prime. He'd managed to avoid the other Autobot for longer than expected, but he had work to do and Optimus wasn't supposed to be doing anything resembling work.

Hot Rod set down his data pad, stood. He was ready for a break, needed one. Maybe he'd even go check on Optimus, just to see how he was doing. Try and have a peaceful, logical discussion with the other mech regarding their disparate views on how to deal with Galloway when he arrived.

He was almost out of the door when he was nearly knocked down by Ratchet, who came barreling in.

"I was just going to take a break," Hot Rod said.

"That's not why I'm here," Ratchet said. "Sit down. We need to talk."

Hot Rod frowned. "What is it?"

"Shut the door and sit down. Then I'll tell you," Ratchet said.

Hot Rod did as he was told, waited for Ratchet to take a seat. The medic glanced down at the data pad in his hands, hesitating, trying to find the right words.

"I know the past few months haven't been easy for you," Ratchet finally said.

Hot Rod raised an optic ridge. "So?"

"Let me try again," Ratchet said. "My duties as medic go beyond fixing the physical wounds of those under my care. Their emotional and psychological well-being also falls under my jurisdiction. Like it or not, that means you, too."

He let it sink in a few moments, earning himself a glare from Hot Rod.

"You haven't been happy. At times, you've been withdrawn and more often than not, stressed and angry. None of that is healthy. The position you're in is one I do not envy, but it is my job to make sure everyone is functioning properly. Lately, neither you nor Optimus has been operating within normal parameters. How much has he told you about what happened in Egypt?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Hot Rod asked.

"More than you know," Ratchet said. "Just listen, please. I do have a point. We've spent most of the last three years fighting. Optimus, more than all of us, has bore the brunt of most of it and. . ."

"He looks worse than Ironhide," Hot Rod said.

"Unfortunately," Ratchet said. "That's what I want to talk to you about. Optimus has suffered more than his fair share of damage over the past few months and I'd like to formally pull him from active duty for the time being."

"What?" Hot Rod asked. "He's already off duty. . ."

"You heard me," Ratchet said. "He needs time to heal. I can only do so much for him. It's either that or stick him in the Xantium's second CR chamber and I don't think you want that."

Hot Rod leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"Why are you asking me? You're chief medical officer. You outrank a Prime when it comes to all those decisions," he said.

"How can I put this so you can understand it?" Ratchet said. "I'm asking because I'm trying to be considerate of the fact you're new to this whole being in charge of an entire race thing. You need an explanation, and unlike everyone else, I'm trying to help. That and I need you to back me up on this. He put you in charge. That Prime behind your name isn't for nothing, you know."

Hot Rod stared at the medic. "Why make this decision now? Great timing, Ratchet, with Galloway coming tomorrow," he said.

"I've put off making this decision because I thought Optimus would come to appreciate having another Prime around to help ease some of the strain he's been under," Ratchet said. "Unfortunately, it's had the opposite effect. He's pushed himself harder, hasn't taken care of himself, and frankly, he's been more than a little reckless."

Hot Rod snorted. Optimus Prime? Reckless?

"Don't scoff," Ratchet said. "I'm serious."

"What makes you think I'll support this?" Hot Rod asked. "I took over command with the understanding that it would be temporary. Optimus Prime made that decision with that same assumption. How do you think the humans will take this if you follow through with this course of action?"

Ratchet met his optics. "I don't know that you'll support my decision," he said. "And the humans will have to simply deal with it."

"No, you'll leave me to deal with the humans if you do this," Hot Rod said. "You're truly and honestly prepared to relieve Optimus Prime from duty because he's unfit?"

"I never said he was unfit for duty," Ratchet said. "As I already explained, Optimus needs time to recover and deal with issues he has yet to face. I'm only asking for a little time, that's all."

"Your mind is made up then?" Hot Rod asked.

"Yes," Ratchet said. "I can wait until after his next round of repairs. It'll only be a few days, give you some time to consider. . ."

"No, if you're going to do it, just do it," Hot Rod said.


	44. Chapter 44

Precipitous

Chapter 44-Amends

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Prowl sat in his office, signing off on assignments for the next two weeks. It could have waited, but he decided it would be one less thing to worry about later. The task also allowed him to work Bluestreak's punishment into the duty roster. That simple act struck Blue silent. Prowl smiled at the image of Blue's jaw hanging open, for exactly 2.55 seconds before launching into a multitude of reasons why he shouldn't be trusted in the lab and why Perceptor wouldn't allow it.

Prowl was so distracted with his work and thoughts he didn't hear footsteps.

"I haven't seen you smile like that in a long time, Prowler. Havin' Blue back a couple of days has already made a world of difference, eh?"

Prowl's head snapped up. He saw Jazz leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, a crooked grin on his face.

"I'm sure he'd like to see you if he hasn't already," Prowl said.

"Saw 'em for a few minutes earlier," Jazz said. "Didn't have much chance to talk because I was working on my report for Rodimus, which, by the way, is done."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate your promptness," Prowl said. "Now if you don't mind, I have work to do."

He picked up a data pad, willing the other mech to leave.

"Prowler, we need to talk," Jazz said.

"I think we said everything needed before you left," Prowl said. "If you're here to say 'I told you so,' I'll save you the trouble. You were right, so you can leave now."

Jazz frowned. "Right about what? I just wanted to apologize for what I said that night," he said. "I'm sorry, all right? And look--if you're really interested in Sideswipe, that's fine by me. I know I should've talked things over with you long before now. . ."

"Jazz, I really don't have time to discuss this," Prowl said.

Jazz took the hint, leaving the other Autobot alone.

-----

Hot Rod entered the access code to Optimus Prime's quarters, entered as the doors opened. Optimus was pacing, but stopped, seeing the other Autobot.

"If you had _anything_ to do with. . ." the Autobot leader started, watched Hot Rod back away.

"I take it Ratchet was here?"

"He left a few minutes go," Optimus said. "So you did know."

"I didn't give him permission, if that's what you're asking," Hot Rod said. "In his defense, Ratchet was only doing what he thinks is best for you, and personally, I'm inclined to agree."

Optimus frowned, started to retort, but Hot Rod spoke first.

"It's temporary," Hot Rod said.

"Ratchet could keep me from returning to active duty for a very long time," Optimus said.

"Then get it through that thick head of yours if you do what he says, it won't be long before you're back on duty," Hot Rod said.

Optimus stopped to consider that, sat down on his berth. "You're right," he said. "Only I do not look forward to having nothing to do. And I've already been warned about 'getting in the way' tomorrow."

Hot Rod sat down beside him.

"I am not looking forward to Galloway's arrival," he said. "But we're as ready as can be. My report's done, and Prowl said all we can do now is wait."

"And hope nothing happens in between," Optimus said. He met Hot Rod's optics. "Speaking of Galloway, I would like to apologize for trying to tell you how to deal with him. I should trust your judgment--I've turned over my duties to you, so I should be able to trust you to handle one human on top of everything else."

Hot Rod regarded him with curiosity, wondering at Optimus' change of heart, considering how insistent he'd been about how he thought the issue should be handled.

"Apology accepted, but what brought this on?" Hot Rod asked.

"Kup helped set me straight about a few things today," Optimus said. "Regarding you and the way I've treated you. For that, I'm sorry. I also regret I haven't been completely honest with you about some matters, but it's late, and you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. . ."

"How about we consider things even?" Hot Rod said.

"All right," Optimus said. "But I do have something I must ask, something not just as a favor to me, but for our people."

He reached toward Hot Rod's chest, hesitated, hand hovering over his spark, where the Matrix was also held within.

"Promise me this--that you will protect the Matrix," Optimus said. "It is precious, a link to our past, the legacy of the fallen Primes."

"If you're afraid something might happen to it, why not take it back?" Hot Rod asked.

"Because Ratchet made me promise you would carry it until I am able to have it returned to me," Optimus said. "Yet another matter you and I need to discuss. . ."

"Then why not put the Matrix in a safe place?" Hot Rod said.

"Our attempt at trying to keep the Allspark hidden failed," Optimus said. "The Matrix is meant to be carried by a Prime. For now, that is you, Rodimus. This is no small task I'm asking. I've trusted you with taking over my duty, and now I'm asking you to trust me on this. Please."

"All right," Hot Rod said.


	45. Chapter 45

Precipitous

Chapter 45-Inquisition

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Barely sunup and three beings stood on the edge of the landing strip, watching a just-landed C-17 taxi to a stop down the tarmac.

Prowl stood calmly, Rodimus Prime fidgeting beside him, Graham slightly ahead of both, but between them, standing at attention.

"It's been an honor to serve," Graham said.

"Likewise," Hot Rod said.

Prowl shot the human and Autobot beside him a sidelong glance.

"It's not like we're going before a firing squad," Prowl said.

"Then why does it feel like it?" Hot Rod asked.

"You've been before a firing squad?" Graham asked, staring up at Hot Rod.

"Decepticon target practice, firing squad--same difference," he said. Prowl gave them a look that silenced them both as the plane's ramp dropped, its human occupants disembarking. One made its way toward them--Theodore Galloway. He stopped for a second, nodding at Graham and the two Autobots. Graham sighed. It was going to be a very, very long day.

-----

"Hold still or I'm going to weld your aft to the berth," Ratchet said, shoving Optimus Prime back down. "Do you want your arm re-attached or not?"

Optimus glowered at the medic. "Would you like your aft to stay attached to your body?"

"Empty threats don't bother me, sparky," Ratchet said. "Keep it up and I'll finish this round of repairs without turning off your pain receptors or putting you out."

His leader's optics flared white hot for an instant, but settled back to their normal calm, steady blue. Optimus sat back on the berth, resigning himself to Ratchet's care.

"Not so hard, was it?" Ratchet said. "If it makes you feel better, Red Alert will be working on you today, not me. I'm only going to assist.

"I should have her relieve you of duty," Optimus said.

Ratchet snorted. "Try it," he said. "No one is going to be taking orders from you until you're cleared for active duty. I sent out an e-mail last night so everybody knows, and at least this way, no one will blame Rodimus, just me."

"That's very noble of you," Optimus retorted.

"At least I'm trying to look out for the kid, unlike you," Ratchet said. "He does care for you, you do realize."

"Ratchet, shut up," Optimus said.

"Touchy this morning, aren't we?" Ratchet said.

Before Optimus could answer, another Autobot joined the fray. Red Alert picked up Ratchet's favorite wrench, cracked him on the back of the head.

"Quit torturing Prime," she said. "You're enjoying your little power trip just a little too much, Hatchet."

Ratchet didn't say anything, glaring at the femme, who wasn't looking at him. Her attention was focused on the now-smug Prime.

"You just have to know how to handle Ratchet," Red Alert said.

"Red Alert, I think you might have just earned yourself a promotion," Optimus said, smiling at the female medic, who offered him a serene smile of her own in return.

Ratchet only spluttered.

-----

Four hours. Four torturous hours locked in the conference room with Galloway. Graham fought back a sigh, trying to ignore his growling stomach. He listened to Galloway drone on, his attention straying to his two Autobot companions. Prowl looked calm, but Graham noticed the second in command was holding his data pad a little tighter than necessary. Rodimus had a wild gleam in his optics, suggesting he'd rather be anywhere but where he was.

Graham looked down at his iPad, noticing he was three pages behind on the report. He scrolled ahead, trying to catch up.

". . .now I understand the changes in the duty roster, but that still doesn't answer some of my questions," Galloway said.

"And those questions are?" Prowl aked.

"Why has Arcee been removed from active duty?" Galloway asked, staring down at his laptop.

Graham nearly dropped his computer.

"Arcee's current condition precludes her from combat," Prowl said, glancing at Graham, who had suddenly turned white.

"I wasn't aware she'd been injured in battle," Galloway said.

:I'll take this: Hot Rod commed. "Arcee wasn't," he said aloud.

"Then why. . ." Galloway asked, confused.

"Arcee is carrying," Hot Rod said.

Galloway blinked, processing that information.

"Carrying. . .Arcee is *pregnant*?" Galloway said. "This is a military base, not a nursery. Gen. Morshower has made sure I'm aware that you Autobots are guests here on Earth, and have done our planet a great service by fighting alongside us and as such, deserve the chance to do more than fight. But I must say. . .expanding your population so soon. . .was Optimus Prime in any way responsible for this?

"Not directly," Hot Rod said, resisting the urge to squash this particular human.

"May I ask who the father is?" Galloway said.

"Sunstreaker," Hot Rod said.

The human looked alarmed for a second, as if he suddenly realized the gravity of that statement, but recovered quickly.

"Don't worry," Hot Rod said. "Arcee is expecting to get back to active duty as soon as possible."

Galloway frowned. "I don't know what standard Autobot policy is regarding pregnancy, but I expect Arcee will be given the same maternity leave as any other female serving in the armed forces. The same goes for Sunstreaker. It's called 'paternity leave.'"

Prowl and Hot Rod glanced at each other, and Graham started to breathe again.

"Please extend my congratulations to Arcee," Galloway said, turning his attention back to his laptop. "How are the new arrivals settling in?"

-----

Jazz fretted. Ops was quiet. Better stay that way, he mused, with Galloway on base. That meant Prowler was tied up all day with that unpleasant human, Rodimus and Graham. The third in command felt a pang of sympathy for Rodi and Graham. They did not deserve to be locked in a room with Galloway. No sentient deserved that. Prowler, maybe, a little, the way he was acting. Even Bluestreak hadn't offered a reason for his behavior, nor had Sideswipe, but the silver twin was avoiding him, and Jazz hadn't seen him in Prowl's company, either, since returning.

Unusual, and worth investigating. Just now now, Jazz thought. Well, 'Sides couldn't evade him because he was on duty in ops, trying his best to ignore everyone and do his job.

Everything running smooth so far. Jazz just hoped it would stay that way until Galloway's departure.

-----

Graham suffered through lunch with Galloway and his assistant, answering their questions, at the same time trying to ignore the looks of sympathy from his fellow NEST personnel. Then there was a tour of the base to make sure everything was in its place and still standing. Graham didn't mention the new lab yet to be constructed, nor the future addition of Wheeljack. That could wait. The communications hub was their last stop, with a brief review of the technological upgrades.

Now, though, Galloway's departure time was looming, and Graham knew he was almost off the hook. Almost. Graham found himself dragged outside the hangar by Galloway.

"Captain, just wanted a few minutes to talk to you alone," Galloway said once they were out of human or Autobot hearing.

"Anything to oblige you, sir," Graham said.

"Cut the protocol, Graham," Galloway said. "I've only got a few minutes before I leave and I want to ask your honest opinion on a couple of matters."

Graham frowned.

"I'll admit I've had my misgivings about Rodimus Prime, but today he has shown some promise. Granted, he's had your help as well as Prowl, but has potential. I understand now why Optimus Prime put him in charge. However, Rodimus is young, and still has much to learn. You've done well, Captain, so have your soldiers and the Autobots. Be sure to pass that along."

"I will, sir," Graham said.

Galloway nodded at the solder, clapped him on the shoulder as he left.

Once he was gone, Graham collapsed against the side of the hangar, relieved the other man was leaving.

-----

Ratchet ignored the look of anger on the face of the mech staring him down. Rodimus Prime still didn't have the hang of intimidating others with just a look. Maybe some day, but not today, Ratchet thought.

"Optimus is resting comfortably," Ratchet said. "I might even let him out of the med bay later this evening. How else was I supposed to keep him away from Galloway?"

"Good point," Hot Rod said, backing down. "But what is Optimus do now you've relieved him of duty?"

Ratchet shrugged. "That's up to him, as long as he follows my orders," he said. "Although I do hope he decides to work on some of the things we've talked about."

"He was pissed last night when I talked to him," Hot Rod said.

"Be grateful you didn't hear the threats he made against me," Ratchet said. "As to what Optimus choose to do with all his free time, he won't have as much as he anticipates.

"What do you mean?" Hot Rod asked.

"He didn't mention the part about counseling?" Ratchet asked. "Oh wait. . .I might have left out that part."

"Counseling? Optimus is going to have to go through counseling? He's going to kick your aft," Hot Rod said.

"Possibly," Ratchet said. "But this entire matter also affects you."

Hot Rod frowned, crossed his arms. "What are you talking about?"

"Being constantly in Optimus' shadow can't be easy," Ratchet said. "This will give you the chance to learn to lead and the humans the opportunity to respect you for who you are, not how they think you should be. Just because I pulled Optimus from active duty doesn't mean he won't be there for you. I'll see to that. Now, if you don't mind, I have a med bay to set back to order."

Hot Rod watched the other mech walk back inside the med bay. Ratchet was crazier than he imagined.


	46. Chapter 46

Precipitous

Chapter 46-Inroads

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Prowl sat in his office, going over some odds and ends he had to take care of. With Galloway gone and having survived a face to face meeting with the human without a confrontation, Rodimus had given him the rest of the day off. The second in command planned on spending that time with Bluestreak, as soon as he finished.

Signing off on a requisition for Ratchet, Prowl moved on to his next data pad, but suddenly found it dangling in front of his face. It was in someone's hands, a hand connected to the arm of a very angry looking Sunstreaker.

"Figures I'd find you here," Sunstreaker said, pitching the data pad back at Prowl, who caught it.

"What do you want?" Prowl asked.

"Why the hell have you been avoiding Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker asked. "You two need to talk."

"For your information, I'm not trying to avoid Sideswipe," Prowl said.

"Like hell you're not," Sunstreaker said. "You could go talk to him if you wanted."

"That is the crux of the matter," Prowl said. "I do not desire to talk to Sideswipe. If you're here on his behalf, you can leave now."

Prowl suddenly found his throat in Sunstreaker's grip.

"I should rip that arrogant head off your shoulders," Sunstreaker said. "You really are a cold son of a bitch, you know that? Can't say I see what 'Sides sees in you."

"Let me go," Prowl said. "Or you will not survive to see the birth of your offspring."

Sunstreaker let go, backed away. "Talk to 'Sides or you will answer to me," he said. "You've hurt him by not even trying to talk to him. I know what happened between you two."

"Then you must also know that Sideswipe had his fun, and you can tell him I do not appreciate being used," Prowl said.

"Tell him yourself," Sunstreaker said. "If you have the mettle to face him."

The gold twin glowered at the second in command, unable to read Prowl's expression. He shook his head in exasperation.

"You're not worth it," Sunstreaker said, walking from his office. He didn't spare Jazz, who was standing by the open door, a look as he passed by.

And Prowl didn't miss a beat.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked.

"Long enough," Jazz said. "What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing you should concern yourself about," Prowl said. "Leave."

Jazz walked away, headed toward Sideswipe's quarters, resolving himself to get to the bottom of what was going on.

-----

The beach. The sun was starting to sink in the western sky, much to the relief of the two beings watching it go down. Graham sat beside Hot Rod, glad the day was nearly over.

"Your blood pressure is back to normal," Hot Rod remarked, breaking the companionable silence.

Graham looked up at the Autobot.

"You've been scanning me all day?" he asked.

"It's my job as NEST co-commander," Hot Rod said.

"Yeah, whatever," Graham said.

"Jackass," Hot Rod countered. "You're my friend. I can't have something happen to you, and then not have anyone among the humans I can count on."

"I'm sure Maj. Lennox would love to hear you say that," Graham said. "He'll be back in a few days."

Hot Rod vented air. "Don't remind me," he said. "Oh yeah, when he gets back, you can explain about Arcee since I explained it to Galloway."

"Thanks," Graham said.

"What are friends for?" Hot Rod said, grinning. He stood. "C'mon. I'll give you a ride back."

-----

Optimus Prime headed down the corridor to ops, hoping he wouldn't get caught. He was supposed to be "staying out of trouble" as Ratchet put it. The Autobot leader translated that phrase into "doing what I want as long as it's not resting." He felt. . .decent. Well, better than he had in days. His arm was re-attached and so was his chest armor, but he wasn't allowed to lift anything heavier than a data pad. His weapons were offlined and he'd also been told not to go near any high grade for a few days. However, Optimus had other ideas about that, and so did Ironhide, who planned on helping him celebrate his release from the med bay.

He walked past his own office, glanced at Prowl's, seeing the door open, decided to stop. He hadn't seen his second in command in several days, and thought touching base with his friend wouldn't be a bad idea.

"Jazz, I told you to leave," Prowl growled, not bothering to look up from his data pad.

"I'd be glad to leave, but not without an explanation first."

The second in command's head snapped up. "Optimus, I'm sorry," Prowl said, standing. "Have a seat."

"I won't bother you for long," Optimus said. "I only wanted to see how you're doing and how well your meeting with Galloway went."

"The meeting went better than expected," Prowl said. "My summary will be done sometime tomorrow, and I'll sneak you a copy when I get a chance."

"Thank you," Optimus said. "I'm relieved to hear the meeting went well. How did Rodimus and Graham hold up?"

"Graham made it through, stoic as ever, although Rodimus fidgeted most of the briefing," Prowl said. "He did well. You should be proud."

"I'm gratified to hear you say that," Optimus said. "But the meeting aside, Prowl, is everything going all right with you."

Prowl clenched a fist, his energy field spiked slightly, a clear sign he was now tense.

"A personal matter," Prowl said. "Nothing to concern yourself with."

"Would it have anything to do with Jazz?" Optimus asked, crossing his arms.

Prowl frowned. "Rodimus has been talking, hasn't he?"

"My friend, I may have been relieved of active duty but I am still your Prime," Optimus said. "If you don't feel comfortable talking to Rodimus, you know you can always come to me. Now, I know you had a disagreement with Jazz before he left. Has something come between you?"

Prowl didn't answer immediately, and the other Autobot's hesitation was a clear sign something had, or hadn't happened, depending on one's point of view. Optimus knew his second and third in command were close, and he'd always assumed their friendship would escalate into something more.

"You could say that," Prowl finally answered. "But I would rather not discuss it. I would like to go spend some time with Bluestreak."

"Then why are you still here?" Optimus asked

Prowl set down his data pad, walked from his office.

-----

Jazz transformed, walked from the edge of the road down to the spit of sand currently occupied by Sideswipe. He could've commed Sideswipe and asked where he was, but that would've given the silver twin the chance to elude him. No, the element of surprise was better.

And Sideswipe was surprised when Jazz threw himself down on the sand beside him.

"Hey, 'Sides," Jazz said.

"If it's about Prowl, you can slag off," Sideswipe said.

"Me bein' here ain't got nothin' to do with Prowler," Jazz said. "Actually, I'm here about Sunstreaker."

Sideswipe frowned. "What did he do now?"

"Threatened to remove Prowl's head," Jazz said.

"I suppose Sunny's in the brig and you want to know why he threatened Prowl, right?"

"Nope, Sunny's as free as a bird," Jazz said. "'Cept now the only thing I want outta you is what could've happened between you and Prowl that's got Sunstreaker so worked up? C'mon 'Sides, I'm not stupid. I heard most of what Sunny said. Something happened while I was gone, didn't it? And Prowler thinks you're not serious, right?"

Sideswipe stared at Jazz, torn between relief and and the urge to transform and bolt.

"Yeah," he answered.

Jazz fell silent. Prowl's evasion of Sideswipe and his own attitude toward him since he'd returned finally made sense.

"Jazz, you all right?" Sideswipe asked.

"'Sides, I think I owe you an apology," Jazz said.

"What for?" Sideswipe said, confused.

"C'mon. We're gonna go have ourselves a talk with Prowler," Jazz said.

-----

Through his high grade-fueled fog, Optimus Prime thought he heard Ironhide giggling. Ironhide did not giggle. Then again, the humans had a term describing his best friend's condition--shit-faced. The Autobot leader laughed, the low rumble reverberating off the walls in his office.

"Earthquake?" Ironhide asked, rolling over, sitting up.

"No," Optimus managed, suddenly having to focus his optics as Ironhide blocked out the light.

"Comfortable down there?" Ironhide asked.

"The floor anywhere is better than the med bay," Optimus answered. "Tired."

"Then we should probably get you back to your quarters," Ironhide said.

"I'm fine," Optimus said. "Leave me. I've recharged in worse places. I could name them for you if you've forgotten."

"Slagger, I was with you in most of them," Ironhide said. "Not all of them were that bad."

"No, because you always found somebody who was impressed by the size of your canons," Optimus said.

"Sparkling, it's not the size of the canons, but how you use them," Ironhide said. "I think that's what *you've* forgotten."

"I know how to utilize my assets," Optimus said. "Only I don't brag about my. . .prowess."

"When was the last time you utilized those famous assets? That one night stand you had with Elita-1?"

Optimus pushed himself up. "One night stand? Ratchet called my relationship with Elita a fling," Optimus said. "It was neither."

"A dalliance then?" Ironhide offered helpfully. "So you admit what you two had was fleeting and therefore cannot be defined as a 'relationship?'"

"Ironhide, shut up," Optimus said.

"You could've had any femme you wanted, any mech even, but no, Mr. Perfect Prime has to be modest. Do you know how many femmes I had to console on your behalf?"

"I never heard you complaining," Optimus said.

"I'm not," Ironhide said. "I'm the luckiest wing man in existence. You shot them down and I picked them up. Being your bodyguard has had its advantages."

"Some friend you are," Optimus said, dropping back to the floor, his head hitting with a dull thud.

"I hope that didn't leave a mark," Ironhide said, laying down on the floor by Optimus. "You know what I think?"

"You can think?" Optimus said.

"I think you're afraid of letting someone in," Ironhide said.

"I let you in my office, didn't I?"

"Aft head," Ironhide said. "You know what I mean."

"I know what you mean," Optimus said.

"Then what are you going to do about it?" Ironhide asked.

Optimus didn't get a chance to answer. The office door whooshed open.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Springer said. "Ratchet's gunning for your afts, 'Hide. If you don't wanna end up in the med bay, get yourself off the floor."

Ironhide pushed himself up, steadied by a hand from Springer. Beside him was Hot Rod, who leaned down, trying to pull Optimus up. Springer went to his leader's other side, helped Hot Rod haul up the bigger Autobot.

"Did you two think you wouldn't get caught?" Springer asked.

Ironhide shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he said.

"Yeah, tell that to Ratchet when he offlines you," Hot Rod said. "Optimus had strict orders to rest."

"He'll rest fine now," Ironhide said.

Hot Rod bit back a grin. It was hard to be angry when Ironhide was right.

A few minutes later, the two younger Autobots stood at Optimus' door, their leader draped between them. Hot Rod entered the access code.

"Thanks Spring, I think I can take it from here," Hot Rod said.

"'Night Rodi, Optimus," he said, walking away.

Optimus leaned on Hot Rod as the other mech helped him into his quarters. Except suddenly Optimus' arm strayed from across his shoulders. Lower. Felt like a hand on his aft.

Hot Rod's optics widened and he stopped.

"Optimus. . ."

"Yes?" he said.

"How much did you have to drink tonight?" Hot Rod said.

"Stopped counting after five cubes. Why?"

"You can take your hand off my aft," Hot Rod said.

Optimus reluctantly removed the appendage from the other Prime's frame. "I did not think you would mind," he said.

"I mind when you're so slagged you don't know what you're doing," Hot Rod said. Why couldn't he do that sober, he mused.

He dragged the other mech toward the berth, shoved him toward it.

"You need anything, comm me," Hot Rod said. "Get some rest."

Optimus said nothing. He sat down on the side of the berth, blue optics lighting up the dark room. Hot Rod left him that way.


	47. Chapter 47

Precipitous

Chapter 47-Obstruction

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Nothing like a Decepticon incursion to interfere with one's personal life, Jazz mused. Two teams gone out in the field, one gone three days and almost back home, due to land at any minute and the second gone less than 12 hours. Gen. Morshower had been checking in hourly for updates, which showed just how serious the situation was and how far south it had gone. Jazz didn't envy Rodimus or Graham one bit. The situation wasn't their fault, but during the last transmission with Washington, Galloway had been present and muttering about heads rolling when the smoke cleared.

What did the humans not understand about how hard it was to fight Seekers? Skywarp and Thundercracker were two of Megatron's best soldiers. Loyal and deadly, their appearance had NEST's personnel and people in Washington, D.C. sweating. Not only that, the two had sunk a Russian nuclear sub, which was causing tension between that country and the United States. The Russian government was. . .annoyed. Angry. Wanting to know how long it would take for the aliens responsible to be found and destroyed.

Then there was the matter of Maj. William Lennox, who was leading the second NEST team dispatched to southern Mexico. Also angry, but for more personal reasons, like what Rodimus was still doing in charge and why Optimus wasn't back on duty.

All matters Jazz was dealing with instead of having the talk he needed with Prowl. He'd apologized to Sideswipe, who promptly decked him before being assigned as one of the mechs tapped to go with Rodimus to Russia. Prowl was with Lennox in Mexico.

Five more minutes and 'Sides would be back home. Maybe they could talk when the dust settled. They still had a lot to sort out, but when Sideswipe was ready. Jazz hoped it wouldn't be too long.

-----

Graham followed Rodimus Prime into the communications hangar. He wearily climbed up the ladder to the platform, waited for the techs to make contact with the Pentagon. A few more minutes and he could get checked out by the medic (again, the bandages on his left forearm were soaked through with blood), grab some food and find his bunk. He could barely stand and most of his team, Autobot and human, wasn't in much better shape.

He mustered up his dignity, trying to stand at attention as the screens flared to life, revealing Gen. Morshower and a pissed-looking Galloway.

"Sirs," Graham said.

Rodimus said nothing, which was not a good sign.

"I take it you didn't have any luck?" Morshower asked.

"No luck on the ground sir, but the locals are continuing to search," Graham said.

Morshower turned his attention to Hot Rod.

"And in the air?"

"Blaster is running scans on all frequencies listening for Decepticon communications," Hot Rod said. "Blurr is helping, but it will take time, even with our technology. And Springer is on the Xantium, spearheading the search in space."

Galloway hopped in. "Why won't you just order them to break orbit and go looking for the Decepticons that could be hiding elsewhere in the solar system? Or the time spent searching space could be better spent by using your technology to listen in on the Russians see if they're hiding anything from us about the Decepticons."

Hot Rod offlined his optics, counted backward from 10.

"Listen fleshling, we are not going to get involved in your tribal disputes," Hot Rod said. "Seekers mean Megatron is not far behind. Worry about that instead."

He started to walk away, but the sound of human voices arguing brought him around.

". . .Mr. Galloway, please remove yourself," Morshower said. He waited until the other man was gone from the room, turned his attention back to the Autobot on screen.

"Rodimus, I know you're tired, but I will not stand for that kind of behavior again. I'll let it slide, for now. Go get some rest. I'd like a full report of your mission, but in the morning. Hopefully some sleep will improve your mood," Morshower said.

The screen went blank, leaving the humans to return to their duties.

Hot Rod waited for Graham to climb down, following his friend out of the hangar. He transformed, opened his door for him.

"Get in," Hot Rod said. "You'll never make it back to the barracks under your own power."

"You're barely in better shape," Graham shot back, climbing in. "How can you even stand?"

"Stubbornness," Hot Rod said.

"Ratchet is going to offline when he hears what happened," Graham said.

"I'll have someone take pictures," Hot Rod said, pulling up in front of the barracks.

"Good luck, and thanks," Graham said, getting out.

-----

Red Alert shoved Ratchet from the med bay, locked the door behind him. That's what he got for not listening and getting some rest. She ignored the cursing coming from the other side of the door, focusing, once again, on what really mattered--her patients. Only two remained, one unconscious, the other sitting up, staring at the injured mech beside him. A sedated Blurr lay on one of the surgical berths, twitching every few seconds.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Red Alert said, walking over putting an arm around Hot Rod.

"I know, but it's my fault," he said. "He saved my life."

The medic sat down beside him.

"Then thank him when he wakes up," Red Alert said. "He was just doing his job. Quit beating yourself up."

"But. . ."

"No buts," she said. "Lay back down and get some rest."

"What if I don't want to stay here?" Hot Rod said.

"You're a Prime, you can do what you want," she said. "I'm not going to make you stay. You end up passed out in the corridor, you answer to Ratchet, not me."

Hot Rod raised an optic ridge in surprise.

"You won't stop me?" he said.

"No," Red Alert said. "Have I ever been able to stop you from doing anything stupid?"

He gave the femme a sidelong glance. "I think this relationship has always worked the other way around," Hot Rod said.

"Name one time you kept *me* from doing anything stupid," Red Alert said.

"I can name several," Hot Rod said. "Want me to elaborate?"

"Please do," Red Alert said.

"Well, let's see. . .how about times I tried?" he said.

"Usually you were the one standing there urging me on," Red Alert said.

Hot Rod grinned. "Of course," he said. "There was nobody else who could get under Ultra Magnus' armor as much as I did except you. Maybe Springer, but those chances were few and far between when he was assigned to Iacon and my unit was sent to Praxus. By then you'd been been transferred back to Simfur, remember?"

"How could I forget?" she said.

"Sorry for bringing up bad memories," Hot Rod said.

"You didn't," Red Alert said. "If you're going to go, go. Just don't say I didn't warn you if you can't make it to your quarters."

"Thanks," Hot Rod said, grinning.

-----

Optimus Prime was surprised to see the door to his quarters open, even more surprised when he saw who it was coming inside--Rodimus.

"I hope you have permission to be out of the med bay," Optimus said.

Hot Rod stopped.

"No one tried to stop me from leaving," he said.

"So you left without permission," Optimus said. "Ratchet will not be happy."

"Ratchet can go to hell," Hot Rod said. "I've been lectured, accused, kicked around and shot at enough the past four days. Me not being in the med bay for a few hours is not going to upset the natural order of the universe."

"No, but it will bring Ratchet looking for you," Optimus said.

"No, it won't," Hot Rod said. "Red Alert threw him out of the med bay, told Ratchet if he tried to set foot inside it between now and 0800 tomorrow she was going to relieve him of duty for a week."

Optimus was impressed.

"I like her way of thinking," he said. "You should inform Red Alert she has my approval to do so."

"You can tell her yourself," Hot Rod said.

"I might do that," Optimus said. "Now that you've answered my question about being out of the med bay, what are you doing *here*?"

"I wanted to know how things have gone here," Hot Rod said.

"That can wait until morning," Optimus said.

"Since when are you actually following medic's advice and passing it along?" Hot Rod said.

"Getting relieved from duty has that affect," Optimus said. "You need to rest, clear your head."

"I'm fine," Hot Rod said.

"No, you're not," Optimus said, standing. "And neither is most of your team."

"How do you know?"

"Jazz gave me a report," Optimus said. He walked over to Hot Rod, grabbed him by the arm, dragged him toward the berth.

"My team can be ready to go again in a few hours," Hot Rod said.

"Not likely," Optimus responded, giving Hot Rod a gentle shove back on the berth.

"What do you mean?" Hot Rod asked, trying to sit up, but Optimus shoved him back down.

"Move over," he said, sliding into the berth next to him. Hot Rod rolled over on his side to accommodate the other Prime's bigger bulk. "It's been taken care of. You're not going anywhere, at least until you've had a few hours of recharge and your report is on its way to Morshower. I've worked it out with Jazz. He can take one team, Kup another, with Hound remaining to stay in charge here."

Hot Rod started to protest.

"Only in case of an emergency," Optimus said. "Jazz is ready to activate if needed. We've operated with a skeleton crew here before, we can do it again, if necessary. Don't worry, because I do enough of that for everyone. And do not try and argue with me."

Hot Rod didn't this time, as Optimus arm's slid around him, pulling him close. Maybe the other Autobot was right, he thought, slipping into recharge.


	48. Chapter 48

Precipitous

Chapter 48-Cost

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Arcee let herself into the quarters usually shared by Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. At the moment, only Sideswipe was in residence. She knew that because Sunstreaker had been spending most of his nights bunked up with her for various reasons besides they were involved and the fact she was carrying his twins. Except the gold twin had nearly found himself thrown out of her quarters as well after the femme found out what he'd done to Prowl. Only some quick explaining kept him from getting his aft thrown out, or more to the point, dragged out by a bigger mech.

She found Sideswipe curled on his side, recharging, or so she thought.

"Whoever it is, go frag yourself," he said.

"I'm not going anywhere," Arcee said.

Sideswipe sat up, frowning at the other Autobot.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he said. "Sunny send you?"

"Sunstreaker doesn't know I'm here," Arcee said. "He's recharging in my quarters, but it's not like you didn't know that, right?"

Sideswipe shrugged.

"I'm only going to say this once--talk to your brother and then talk to Prowl when he gets back," Arcee said. "I'm sick of putting up with all this emotional crap. Sunny's sorry, and I know you need to hear that from him, not me, so go talk to him, please?"

"I might," Sideswipe said.

Arcee reached up, touching Sideswipe's face. "This has all been really hard on you, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," Sideswipe said.

"I'm sorry if I've made. . ."

Sideswipe grabbed her had, squeezed it. "You haven't done anything," he said. "But try and make things better, although I gotta admit, what were you thinking, picking Sunny? That aside, I'm fine with the two of you being together, the twins, everything. I thought I made that pretty clear? It's everything else. . .what happened with Prowl, trying to figure out where Jazz stands on all of this. . ."

"You'll figure it out," Arcee said. "Now c'mon. Do I have to drag your aft to talk to Sunny?"

"No, I'm coming," Sideswipe said.

-----

Hot Rod wanted to pummel Ratchet. He had plenty to do, and not enough time to do it. What the hell was the medic thinking, making him cut back on the hours he could work? So what it was for only one day, he had reports to sign off on, needed an update on the operational status of everyone who was injured. . .and oh frag, his back still hurt, and now that he thought about it, maybe Ratchet's idea was a good one. But what was he going to do with an most of an afternoon and evening to himself?

Luckily, the morning briefing had been mercifully short. Galloway had taken Morshower's place because the general was in a meeting with the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Galloway had been curt, and so was his brief apology for speaking out of turn the day before. His report for Morshower and Galloway was finished and already passed along.

Recharging was an option, but Hot Rod didn't want to spend the day doing nothing. Maybe Graham was up and about? If so, he could drag him down to the beach and just relax. If not, there was another option in that regard, but Hot Rod shut down that line of thinking quickly. Optimus likely wasn't doing anything, and. . .no. I'm not going there, Hot Rod thought. He hadn't allowed himself that kind of thinking in a long time, and he wasn't going to start again now.

As attractive as the beach sounded, Hot Rod had a nagging feeling he needed to stay close to ops. The farthest point on the island wasn't far, but Lennox and Prowl's team would soon be in place in Mexico, which mean the shooting would also soon start.

Strange, that nagging feeling he'd been having all day. If he didn't know better, he'd swear the Matrix was trying to communicate with him, but that was crazy, wasn't it? Then again, the damn thing had been acting strange lately, especially when he was close to Optimus, like last night. He'd had nightmares about darkness and something else, something he couldn't remember.

Hot Rod brushed it from his thoughts. The sooner he could hand the thing back to Optimus, the better.

-----

Sideswipe felt Arcee shove him inside her quarters. He looked back over his shoulder as the door shut, wondering if he should try and leave, thought better of it. The femme had gone to a lot of trouble to get him and his twin together in the same room.

"What're you doing here?" Sunstreaker asked, sitting up on the berth, arms crossed.

"I'm here to talk to you," Sideswipe said. "So start talking before Ratchet shows up and kills us both for not resting like we should be."

"He was already here," Sunstreaker said. "What are we supposed to talk about?"

"I don't know," Sideswipe said. "Arcee said you were sorry about something, you're always sorry about something, aren't you?"

"'Sides, shut up," Sunstreaker said. "I owe you an apology. I'm sorry about what I said about you and Prowl. I mean that. I should've kept my mouth shut and maybe you two would still be talking. . ."

"Apology accepted if it'll make you quit whining," Sideswipe said, sitting down by his twin.

_Whining? I never whine, Sunstreaker said, switching to their bond. It's good to talk like this, feels good to have you let me in again. I hate it when we shut each other out._

_Crazy slagger, Sideswipe said. Maybe if you weren't such an ass sometimes, it wouldn't happen so much. _

_ I'm an ass?_

_ Yes, you are._

_ You are too, Sunstreaker said. _

_ Not as much of one. _

_ No, Prowl's an even bigger ass than both of us if he can't see how much you care, Sunstreaker said. _

_ He's never been great at handling emotional stuff, Sideswipe said. _

_ No, tight-aft never has been, Sunstreaker said. _

_ He's gonna have an even bigger problem waiting when he gets back, Sideswipe said. Jazz figured out what happened between me and Prowl. You know he argued with Prowl before he left on that intelligence mission with Drift?_

_ Yeah. _

_ Well, the other day Jazz explained he might've said a thing or two about the possibility I wasn't serious in my interest in Prowl when they fought, which, I think, coupled with our general avoidance of each other since, has given him the wrong impression, Sideswipe said. _

_ Then straighten them both out, Sunstreaker said. _

_ Jazz has been, kinda, Sideswipe said. Haven't talked much since, but he said I needed a little space. _

_ I think you've had enough space, Sunstreaker said. _

_ So do I, Sideswipe said. _

_-----_

Graham stifled a yawn, glancing up at Rodimus. His friend looked distracted, had all evening.

"Something the matter?" he finally asked.

"What? No," Hot Rod said.

"You're sure?"

Hot Rod shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe a little jumpy because we haven't heard from Lennox in a couple of hours, that's all."

"I know how you feel," Graham said. "I hate being left behind, but it's worse for you, isn't it, because you're in charge, correct?"

"Yes," Hot Rod said.

"What happens, happens," Graham said. "There's no changing that.

-----

The day was almost over, with it, Blaster's shift. Less than an hour left and he could head to his quarters, put on some tunes and recharge. The past few days had left him wiped, with longer shifts than usual scanning for Decepticon communications at the same time facilitating communications between two teams in the field, base and the Xantium.

He ran a scan, filtering through all of the known Cybertronian frequencies before switching back to to the human bands. He stayed on the frequency used by NEST teams in the field a few seconds, hearing nothing but static. . .or so he thought.

". . .ego Garcia, Xantium, is *anybody* listening? Damn it, we need backup. . .this is Lennox. . .we're getting our asses kicked by Bruticus. . ."

"Lennox, this is Blaster, help is on the way," he said. He quickly commed the Xantium, requesting they send who they could.

:Rodimus, you better come to ops:

-----

Two hours later

Maj. William Lennox knew he had much to answer for, but at the moment, he did not care. Nine of his men were unaccounted for, and considering how well things went, they were probably dead. Five others were dead. Jolt, Roadbuster, Drift and Sandstorm were helping search for his missing personnel; Jolt was the only Autobot member of his team still with them. The res, Springer, Ironhide, Tracks and Prowl, had been transferred to the Xantium for various reasons, one of which the soldier did not want to think about at the moment.

He pushed it from his mind, knowing he would have to deal with it later.

-----

Hot Rod stood in his quarters on the Xantium, staring out the portal at the Earth. Not even the sight of the planet floating in the void could make him get rid of the image in his head. He'd only seen Prowl a few seconds before they'd moved him to a surgical berth, but what he'd seen was beyond bad. He knew the second in command was lucky to even survive the orbital jump, and now it was a race against time to try and save Prowl's life.

He was also still smarting from the decision to not let Bluestreak come up to the Xantium. Ratchet, Red Alert and Perceptor had enough to deal with without his presence. No, instead, he'd left the young mech in Jazz and Sideswipe's care. At least they'd been spared what he had to see. Some comfort that was, Hot Rod thought.

Also of little comfort was the fact the Combaticons were indeed destroyed. Lennox's unorthodox thinking saw to that--he'd ordered using the Xantium's beaming technology to bounce the gestalt into space near the ship, where Topspin and Twin Twist used the Xantium's main cannon to fire on the Decepticons.

Hot Rod didn't turn around when he heard the door open. It was one of two mechs, and considering Springer was occupied on the bridge, it left the other option--Optimus Prime.

"I hope you don't mind, but Springer gave me the access code," Optimus said.

"Invasion of my privacy is the last thing I'm worried about right now," Hot Rod said.

"Your quarters here are less spartan than on Earth," Optimus said, looking around. "You could bring some of your things down, make your quarters on base more habitable."

"Maybe," Hot Rod said. "How is Prowl?"

"It does not bode well," Optimus said.

"I figured as much," Hot Rod said, shoulders slumping.

Optimus walked over, putting a hand on one of his shoulders.

"Rodimus, Prowl bought Lennox's team the time they needed," he said. "More of them would have been lost. . ."

"Are they more important than one of ours?" Hot Rod said. "There are so few of us, and so many of them. . ."

"No," Optimus said, wrapping his arms around the other Prime.

Hot Rod let himself stay that way a few seconds, started to pull away, but Optimus held him close with one arm, reaching up with his other hand, caressing his face.

"You're not alone," he said, leaning down, face inches from Hot Rod's own.

And he could only watch as Rodimus' optics went blank for a few seconds, as someone commed him, held onto the other Prime as his legs gave out from under him.

Optimus knelt down beside him.

"What. . ."

"That was Ratchet," Hot Rod said, voice quiet. "Prowl didn't make it."

-----


	49. Chapter 49

Precipitous

Chapter 49-Trust

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod started to stand, but Optimus held him.

"Optimus, don't, please, just don't. . ."

"Rodimus, it will be all right," Optimus said, voice gentle. "Trust me."

"Prowl is gone," Hot Rod said. "Your second in command, one of your closest friends, and you don't seem too upset about it."

"I am, Rodimus, but. . ."

"But what?" Hot Rod said, pulling away. "I've got to get back to base, tell Blue, and get a disposal team. . ."

"No, you don't," Optimus said. "Not yet. Just wait. Please. Give me a little time. Trust in me, trust in the Matrix."

Hot Rod started to answer, hesitated when he felt the Matrix flare to life inside him. "All right."

-----

Ratchet wanted to throttle his leader. He'd cleared out the med bay at the appearance of his leader, knowing what was probably coming. And he was right.

"You don't even know if it will work," he said.

"It worked once," Optimus said.

"Yes, it did, and we don't know how or if it will even work a second time," Ratchet said. "Prime. . .Optimus, I know Prowl's loss is a hard one to accept, but he knew the risks and. . ."

"I could order you to do it," Optimus said.

"I relieved you of duty," Ratchet said. "You can't order me to do anything. You can't play god."

"I am your Prime. Never forget that," Optimus said, optics blazing. "I'm asking you to try. Please."

"This is not your decision to make," Ratchet said, sitting down.

"Then let Bluestreak decide," Optimus said. "He's his family. . ."

"That's not fair," Ratchet said.

"Letting Prowl go without even trying isn't fair," Optimus said.

"If we do this, then it means you are going to have to explain everything to Rodimus, and I do mean everything. Regardless of what happens with Prowl, you will tell him what happened with the Matrix--all of it," Ratchet said. "That is my condition."

"Done," Optimus said.

-----

Bluestreak was curled on Jazz's lap, finally in a fitful recharge. Sideswipe sat beside Jazz, arm around him, offering what support he could. Waiting.

The two mechs glanced at each other when the door to Jazz's quarters opened, revealing Optimus Prime. Bluestreak sat up.

"He's gone, isn't he?" Bluestreak said.

Optimus didn't answer.

"Bluestreak, I'd like to talk to you alone," he said.

Jazz and Sideswipe left the two Autobots alone, shutting the door behind them.

"I knew it," Bluestreak said. "Because why would you be here like this and wanting to talk to me alone? I should've expected this. Prowl is such a slag-head sometimes and. . ."

"Bluestreak, there is something I need to ask, something important. The decision is yours to make, but first, I need to explain," Optimus said.

"What are you talking about?" Bluestreak said, confused.

"There is something Ratchet can try, it might not work, but with your permission, we can try and bring back Prowl," Optimus said.

"But he's. . ."

"I know," Optimus said. "But it worked once, Bluestreak, on me. If not for the Matrix of Leadership, I would not be standing here before you now." He didn't have to wait for an answer.

"Do it," Bluestreak said.

-----

Back on the Xantium, Hot Rod waited in the med bay for Optimus Prime's return. He tried not to look at Prowl's broken form, wondering what the hell Optimus was planning. Whatever it was, Ratchet wasn't happy about it.

The medic paced, stopped when he heard the door slide open.

"Bluestreak, wait out here, all right?" he asked, giving the young mech a gentle shove back out the door. Jazz and Sideswipe were behind him. "Take care of him."

The door slid shut behind Optimus, who turned his attention to the other Prime.

"Rodimus, the Matrix, please," Optimus said.

Hot Rod was damn confused by this point, but he did as asked, parting his armor, relinquishing the relic, which Optimus passed to Ratchet. The medic frowned, reluctantly took the object from his Prime. He held it for a few seconds, turning it over and over again in his hands, but if he was going to try, then he needed to get it over with. Ratchet raised it over Prowl's spark chamber, and he nearly dropped the Matrix when it started to glow. His own doubts and confusion slid away with the glow, and Ratchet had the impression he was indeed doing the right thing. Quickly, he stabbed the Matrix into Prowl's spark, sending up a silent prayer to Primus and whatever other deities might be listening.

He didn't have long to wait. Slowly, Prowl's spark started to glow ever brighter until it spread to his optics. His body shuddered once and he gasped, tried to sit up.

Ratchet removed the Matrix, handed it back to Optimus. The medic placed a reassuring hand on Prowl's shoulder.

"Welcome back," he said.


	50. Chapter 50

Precipitous

Chapter 50-Unsaid

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet checked the monitors hooked up to Prowl for what seemed like the millionth time, the medical devices corroborating what his own optics and diagnostics were telling him--Prowl was doing well. "Well" considering only hours before. . .Ratchet pushed it from his mind, stopping for a few moments to dwell on the sight before him. Prowl was resting comfortably on one of the Xantium's surgical berths, Bluestreak standing on the left side, holding his brother's hand, which was clutched in his own. Ratchet smiled at the sight, grateful Bluestreak was being mindful of the energon lines running into his brother's arm and the other lines and cables connecting him to the diagnostic equipment. On Prowl's right side were Sideswipe and Jazz, who were staying back while the tactician talked with his brother.

Ratchet was trying to give them some privacy, but he wasn't about to leave Prowl yet, despite everything that had happened. But he was at Prowl's side the instant the other Autobot was trying to get his attention.

"Ratch. . ." Prowl managed.

"What is it? Are you feeling all right? Are you in pain? Confused?"

"Tired. . .but will rest. . .later," Prowl said. "Please. . .take Blue? Need to. . .need to see Jazz and 'Sides alone. . ."

Ratchet considered the request, weighing his medical instincts against Prowl's request. Obviously the three needed time to straighten something out, and considering circumstances, Ratchet was not going to deny them that. He only hoped they could do it in a shortly allotted time span.

"You have five minutes," Ratchet said. "Blue, come with me."

Bluestreak reluctantly followed the medic out of the med bay without a word, leaving the others alone.

"'Sides. . .c'mere," Prowl said once they were alone.

The silver twin did as asked, coming close to Prowl.

"So. . .sorry, 'Sides," Prowl said. "Should've found you, after you left. . .that night, talked. . .should have trusted you."

He reached up, but Sideswipe caught his hand in his own. "You don't need to apologize," Sideswipe said. "I should be the one. . ."

"I'd say you're even," Jazz said. "And if anyone should be offerin' an apology, it's me, Prowler, for what I said to you. See, 'Sides and I've been doin' a little talkin' lately, and well, it's like he said a while back, the three of us have been friends a long time, and maybe it's time we moved beyond that."

Prowl looked from Jazz to Sideswipe and back.

"I think we already have," Prowl said.

-----

Hot Rod was going to kill Springer for giving Optimus the access code to his quarters. The other Prime was now standing in front of him, clearly wanting to talk, but Hot Rod was not in the mood to listen. Too many questions running through his head, he was exhausted and needed a little time to sort it all out.

And Optimus was not picking up on that, or if he was, he ignored it.

"Optimus, I'd love to hear your explanation for what just happened, but. . ." Hot Rod said.

"You need to hear it," Optimus said. "And everything else I have to say regarding what happened tonight, and other matters I have not shared with you, things you need to know about the Matrix, and my reluctance to. . ."

"Your reluctance to what?" Hot Rod snapped. "Be honest? What about the Matrix? Is it a weapon? What else can it do? Are the Decepticons aware of it and what it can do?"

"Unfortunately, the Decepticons are painfully aware of at least two of its abilities," Optimus said.

"Which two?" Hot Rod said, arms crossed, anger ratcheting up.

"They know it was used to power the sun harvester, but you know that, and they also know, at least in one instance, it was used to bring back someone who died on the battlefield," Optimus said.

Hot Rod frowned. "It's been used like this before?"

"Once," Optimus said.

"Why didn't you tell me before now?" Hot Rod said.

"I didn't feel it was necessary," Optimus said.

"We have a powerful artifact in our possession that can bring back the dead and the Decepticons aren't interested in that?" Hot Rod asked.

Optimus didn't answer.

"Optimus, I'd like to continue this little discussion, but I've got too much to think about right now, so I'd like you to leave," Hot Rod said.

Optimus didn't budge, only leveled his gaze on the younger mech.

"Fine, don't leave, I'll have you removed," Hot Rod said, optics going blank as he commed someone.

:Whirl? You still in ops?: he said.

:Yeah, why?: Whirl asked.

:Optimus needs to take care of a few things back on base. Think you can send him back via orbital jump?:

:Not a problem:

Seconds later, Hot Rod watched as the Autobot leader was engulfed in a shaft of light and disappeared.

-----

Springer winced as Red Alert slid his shoulder armor back into place.

"That hurt," he said.

"Getting shot for whining will hurt more if you don't shut up," the medic said. "Take it easy, or at least try, will you?"

"No promises," Springer said.

The medic snorted, picked up her things, slapped Springer on the shoulder and headed out. She passed on the way out the door. He barely spared her a nod as he stormed into Springer's quarters.

"I should thank you for putting the fear of Primus back in the crew," Springer said, grinning up at Hot Rod.

Hot Rod frowned.

"I hear you threw Prime off the ship," Springer said. "I'm proud of you for reminding him there's a reason why you're second in command of the Wreckers."

"How did you hear about that?" Hot Rod asked.

"Whirl commed me and asked if there were going to be problems for beaming Prime off the ship," Springer said.

"And that makes you think I threw Optimus off the ship?" Hot Rod said.

"That and the way you walked in here," Springer said.

Hot Rod sat down.

"Yeah, I guess I did kind of throw him off, didn't I?" he said.

"Uh huh," Springer said. "What did he do?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Hot Rod said.

"OK," Springer said. "So let's talk about something else. How's Prowl?"

"Lucky to be alive," Hot Rod said.

"Did Ratchet really use the Matrix?"

"Yes," Hot Rod said.

"So then Prowl was bad, but. . ." Springer stopped, seeing the look on his friend's face.

"No, Spring, Prowl was gone. He was dead. I couldn't sense his energy field, his spark was extinguished, his frame was empty, cold," Hot Rod said. "You were there when he was cut down, you saw him, so tell me if anyone could have survived that?"

"Maybe. . ." Springer said, thinking over what he'd seen happen, then reconsidered. "Not really. No."

"How are you?" Hot Rod asked, trying to change the subject.

"All right," Springer said. "I'll be better when Ironhide gets back."

"Where is he?" Hot Rod said.

"Went to see for himself how Prowl's doing," Springer said.

"At least you have somebody," Hot Rod said.

"Jealous?"

"No," Hot Rod said.

"Speaking of Ironhide. . ." Springer said. "We've been talking about bonding."

Hot Rod raised an optic ridge in surprise.

"Seriously?" he said.

"Yeah," Springer said. "Not like right now, but soon, maybe."

"You bond with Ironhide that means the Wreckers are marooned on Earth," Hot Rod said.

Springer smiled. "That's one way of looking at it," he said.

"No, the only way," Hot Rod said. "You bond with Ironhide, that means. . ."

"Means what?" Springer said.

"Nothing," Hot Rod said.

"You know what I think?" Springer said. "I think you need some high grade and a damn hard overload."

"High grade would be good, but I have to get back to base," Hot Rod said, standing.

"Rodi, shut up and listen, all right?" Springer said. He waited for Hot Rod to shut his mouth, which the other mech did. "Blaster called up a while ago, while you were in the med bay, so I haven't had a chance until now to pass along our orders. NEST is to stand down for the next 24 hours, only to be activated in case of an emergency. That means you, me, everyone. Gen. Morshower said considering how well the last two missions went, everyone needs a little time to recover. So get off your aft and grab some high grade. You know where it's hid."

Springer watched as Hot Rod left his quarters to retrieve, waited patiently for his return several minutes later. He grinned up at his friend as he handed him a container.

"Well, now you've got the high grade, I think you should work on the other half of my suggestion," Springer said.

"What suggestion?" Hot Rod said.

"Are you deaf?" Springer said. "The part about a damn hard overload. Maybe Optimus would oblige you when you get back."

He was rewarded when Hot Rod spluttered on his high grade as he took a sip, choking.

"I'll 'face Optimus Prime when the chaos-bringer comes calling," Hot Rod said.

Springer took a sip of his own energon, enjoying Hot Rod's reaction.

"So Rodi, when was the last time you 'faced? Had to be Red, wasn't it, because we all knew you two were. . ."

"Springer, for the last time. . ." Hot Rod warned.

"Rodi, what is wrong with you?" Springer asked. "Why do you always try and change the subject when I mention your name and 'facing in the same sentence?"

"Because, Captain Kirk, I don't feel like I have to talk about my conquests all the time," Hot Rod said.

"Captain Kirk?" Springer said, amused by the human cultural reference. "I'll admit, I've had my. . .conquests, but my exploits aren't that legendary."

"Damn close," Hot Rod muttered.

"Name one then," Springer dared.

"That time on Orun IV with that female Decepticon--you know the one, the bounty hunter, Emara, right? The one who was going to collect our heads for Shockwave," Hot Rod said.

"I didn't hear any complaints from you," Springer said.

"I never said I 'faced her," Hot Rod said.

Springer's optics widened.

"You lied about that?" he said.

"I wouldn't say I lied, but you don't have to 'face someone to have an overload," Hot Rod said.

"So when was the last time?" Springer asked.

"None of your business, Spring," Hot Rod said.

"Then tell me this--have you ever interfaced anyone at all?" Springer asked, searching Hot Rod's face for any sign of a reaction.

For a moment, Hot Rod was very still, then took a sip of high grade, set down the container.

"I'll take that as a no then," Springer said. "Wow, Rodi, never would've expected that, I mean, considering how long we've known each other. . ."

"Springer, shut up," Hot Rod said. "Or I will offline you right now. I can make it look like an accident, you know. . ."

Springer laughed, and finally realizing the absurdity of the situation and just how good it felt to hear laughter after all they'd been through that night and the past few days, Hot Rod joined him.


	51. Chapter 51

Precipitous

Chapter 51-Inception

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime rolled off his berth, annoyed at whoever had the gall to disturb his recharge. Walking to open the door, he checked his internal chronometer, realizing it was after 0800, and a perfectly logical time for someone to bother him. He activated the door release, wondering who it could be, considering Rodimus was probably still on the Xantium.

It definitely was not Rodimus, thankfully. No, it was Red Alert.

"Are you going to stand there all day or invite me in? I have a few things to tell you that Ratchet wanted me to pass along," she said. "He's going to be up on the Xantium at least another day, so. . ."

Optimus muttered an apology, ushering the medic inside.

"I'll make this brief," Red Alert said. "But you need to know. Ratchet already told Rodimus, so this way you're up to speed, too."

"Is it about Prowl?" Optimus asked.

"Partly," Red Alert said. "And since you asked, he's doing well, better than expected actually. He's weak, but the damage is healing more quickly than we anticipated. All Prowl wants to do is recharge, but Ratchet said that's all you did after the Matrix was used to bring you back, and considering that's all we have to draw on, Prowl should make a full recovery in a few days."

"That's very good news," Optimus said.

"It is," Red Alert said. "However, what I have to say next you might not be as enthusiastic about."

"What is it?"

"Ratchet is releasing Wheeljack from the CR chamber sometime today," Red Alert said.

"Also good news," Optimus said.

"Yes," Red Alert said. "But there's more."

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Go on."

"Ratchet asked Rodimus if it would be possible, with assistance from Perceptor and Wheeljack, to study the Matrix," she said. "Rodimus, being the stubborn pain in the aft he is, suggested Ratchet ask you, so here I am, asking on Ratchet's behalf."

This was a strange new development, Ratchet asking for a scientific study of the Matrix, but not unreasonable, if Ratchet was going to oversee any research effort. Not that Optimus didn't trust Perceptor and Wheeljack, but they could be. . .enthusiastic in their scientific endeavors.

"I'll grant Ratchet's request on the condition that the Matrix is not damaged in any way, and he oversees the effort," Optimus said. "And if Rodimus is agreeable to relinquishing it for such a purpose."

Red Alert chose not to pass along the other Prime's opinion on the matter, deciding tact was in order.

"He's agreeable to it," she said.

"Good," Optimus said. "How long do you think Ratchet will need?"

"He said a couple of days should be enough, just to try and get a basic understanding of the energy it contains and how it works," the medic said.

"Then proceed," Optimus said.

-----

Maj. William Lennox sat in the shade created by Ironhide's large black bulk, which was blocking out the sun. Lennox was only at the beach at Ironhide's insistence fresh air would do him some good. So far, the human hadn't said one word, and at the moment, he was staring off into space, likely going over in his head the events of his last mission. Ironhide knew it was bothering Will, having lost seven men and Prowl (technically), but dwelling on it wasn't healthy. So he decided to try and draw the human's thoughts away from it.

"Did you know that since your return to base from your leave the twins have started a betting pool on the gender of your next offspring?" Ironhide said.

"That's nice," Lennox said.

Ironhide waited and watched, hoping it would sink in. And it did.

"WHAT?"

"You heard me," Ironhide said.

"They have not," Lennox said. "I'd hear about it if they had, right? And what is it with you guys being so fascinated with our kids? There'll be a pair running around here soon enough."

Ironhide smiled at his friend.

"There isn't a betting pool. Yet," Ironhide said.

Lennox blushed.

"Jackass," he muttered.

"Fortunately, I am not the one on this beach most closely related to and resembling such a creature," Ironhide said.

"'Hide, shut up," Lennox said.

"If I 'shut up,' you won't hear the base gossip from while you were away," Ironhide said. "Would you like to know what's been going on or not?"

"Maybe," Lennox said.

"Yes or no will suffice," Ironhide said.

"Fine--yes," Lennox said, settling back on the sand. Ironhide grinned, glad his friend was relaxing.

-----

The Xantium's science lab was small but well-equipped. More than adequate his upcoming research, Perceptor thought. He was waiting for Wheeljack and Ratchet to return. The two were taking their time coming back from their mid-day break, no doubt talking with some of the Wreckers. Perceptor found them fascinating himself, but at the moment, the Matrix of Leadership was where his attention was centered. So far, they had determined little about the artifact, but he hoped that would change. He had some theories, and decided testing one would not be a bad idea. Now that he had a little time to himself, he could pull together the resources needed and put his plan into action.

A quick search of the Xantium's archives revealed the materials he needed were indeed on board and it wouldn't take long to pop back to base and pick up the rest of what he needed. Satisfied he could accomplish the necessary tasks before his friends returned, Perceptor went to work.

-----

Springer sauntered through ops, not one bit self-conscious about what he was carrying in his hands. Not that anyone on duty in ops would dare voice their thoughts out loud about what they were thinking about what he was doing with a pair of stasis cuffs in his hands. Jazz gave him a curious look, smiled when Springer grinned back, but the commander of the Wreckers kept going, tossing the cuffs up in the air and catching them over and over as he walked by. However, he stopped and held the cuffs behind his back as he entered Optimus Prime's office.

Hot Rod looked up from the data pad he was looking at when he heard footsteps.

"Hey Spring," he said. "What're you doing here?"

"Got a little present for you, Rodi," Springer said, tossing the cuffs onto the desk in front of his friend.

Hot Rod frowned. "What are these for?"

"Use your imagination," Springer said, already walking from the room. "Thought you could use 'em, that's all."

"You crazy slagger. . ." Hot Rod snarled. He stood, grabbed the cuffs, took off after Springer, who ran from the office. Hot Rod stopped, took aim, threw them hard, grinned as he watched the cuffs hit Springer in the back of the head, bringing to his knees.

He turned around, walked back to the office. Served the aft-head right. . .

While a slightly dazed Springer suddenly found himself hoisted to his feet by Optimus Prime.

Springer mumbled thanks, bent down, picking up the stasis cuffs. He stared down at the cuffs a second, before glancing at his Prime.

"Hey, Optimus, would you mind returning these to Rodi for me?" Springer asked. Before the other Autobot could say no, Springer shoved the cuffs into his hands and walked away, not bothering to hide the grin on his face.

Optimus stared at the stasis cuffs in his hands, turned around, headed back toward his office, and found Rodimus there, working.

"What now?" Hot Rod snapped. Hearing no response, he looked up, anger replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and terror when he saw who it was and what he had in his hands.

"Rodimus, I must say, I don't know which concerns me more--the fact I do not want to know what Springer was doing with these, or the knowledge these stasis cuffs belong in your possession," Optimus said. "Although, I admit, I am curious. . ."

Hot Rod was suddenly out of his seat and across the room, ripping the cuffs from his hands, subspacing them.

"Planning on putting those to use anytime soon?" Optimus asked, mirth in his optics.

"On Springer. When I commit mutiny, take over the Wreckers and leave this mud ball behind," Hot Rod said.

"Should I go warn him?" Optimus said.

"Be my guest," Hot Rod said. "Please do. I have a report I need to finish for Morshower and Galloway and. . ."

"On our operational status? It can wait until morning," Optimus said. "How much recharged did you get last night?"

"You mean before or after I threw you out of my quarters?" Hot Rod said.

Optimus crossed his arms, raised an optic ridge in question, waiting for an answer.

"Not much in the past few days," Hot Rod said.

"Then I suggest you get some rest before Ratchet takes up the issue with both of us," Optimus said. "And you're tense. . .I could help you with that."

He reached over, gently started to knead Hot Rod's neck, but he jerked away.

"You haven't been talking to Springer, have you?" Hot Rod asked, frowning.

"No, I've hardly seen him since he and the rest of Lennox's team returned," Optimus said. "Why?'

"No reason," Hot Rod said. "And what makes you think I want your 'help' with anything? You owe me an explanation about what happened with Prowl last night."

"Which I would have been glad to share, if you'd been willing to listen," Optimus said. "But as a I recall, it was you who had me beamed out of your quarters, not the other way around."

"Only because you were trying to press the issue when I had more than enough to deal with," Hot Rod said.

"And are you ready to listen now?" Optimus said.

"I think we should have that conversation when we're both ready," Hot Rod said. "I want an explanation, believe me, but I want to hear it when we have the time to discuss it with cooler heads."

"Spoken like a true Prime," Optimus said, smiling.

-----

It was late and Wheeljack knew he was supposed to be resting, but what Ratchet didn't know wouldn't hurt him. He was in the med bay, likely passed out from keeping vigil over Prowl. Wheeljack smiled at that thought, happy that Prowl was alive and well, and Ratchet hadn't changed at all in the years since he'd last seen him. Nor had Perceptor, considering how excited the scientist was with the research they were conducting on the Matrix of Leadership.

Though at the moment, Wheeljack had his misgivings, hadn't yet voiced them to Perceptor regarding the side project the scientist had going. Perceptor was doing all the work, but he'd had the engineer double check, just to be safe. Resequencing CNA wasn't something Wheeljack was an expert at, but the coding had recombined successfully as far as he could tell. What Perceptor was going to do with the CNA he hadn't yet revealed, but the engineer trusted the other mech. With the check on the coding done, Wheeljack was going to go get some recharge.

-----

After 0330. Ratchet fervently hoped there was a very good reason he'd been dragged away from a patient in the middle of the night, although Prowl was doing fine. The energy field of the Autobot beside him suggested he felt much the same. Optimus Prime didn't speak as they walked down the corridor together to the Xantium's lab. And once they were inside, it immediately became clear why they'd both been summoned.

There, in the middle of the room, floating inside a containment field, curled into what the humans called a fetal position, was a protoform. Standing nearby, was Perceptor, who held the Matrix of leadership in his hands, staring down at the artifact, face rapt with wonder.

"It worked," Perceptor said. "Better than I predicted. . ."

"Perceptor, what have you done?" Optimus asked.

That seemed to snap the scientist back to attention.

"Proven a theory," Perceptor said.

"And that was?" Optimus said.

"To see if the Matrix could be used to create life," Perceptor said. "Like the Allspark. The protoform is viable."

"It's functional?" Optimus asked, skeptical.

"The sparkling is healthy," Perceptor insisted.

"I'll be the judge of that," Ratchet said.

"I can assure you she is perfectly formed and only in stasis," Perceptor said.

"She?" Optimus asked.

"Congratulations," Wheeljack said. "It's a girl."


	52. Chapter 52

Precipitous

Chapter 52-Responsibility

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime couldn't decide if he wanted to stay and stare at the newly-created sparkling or throttle Perceptor. His third option was drag the scientist from the room and drag out of him just what the hell he'd been thinking. And knowing Perceptor, he would get an explanation. The Autobot leader picked the third option, grabbing Perceptor by the arm and hauling him out into the corridor. Hardly a suitable place for a discussion, Optimus knew, but he was too angry and exasperated to think of another solution.

Drawing himself up to his full height, he stared down at the scientist, who clutched the Matrix to his chest, suddenly realizing the gravity of his situation.

"Perceptor, what were you thinking?" Optimus asked. "Were you so blinded by an opportunity you weren't thinking? Did you even stop and consider what would happen if you succeeded? Or were you planning on terminating the experiment?"

Perceptor frowned. "What? Terminate the sparkling? No. Of course not. That thought never entered my processor. What kind of monster do you think I am? Never. My thought was that someone among my fellow Autobots would probably welcome the addition of a sparkling," he said.

"And just how did you go from having a theory to ending up with a sparkling?" Optimus asked.

"The necessary supplies to begin composition of a protoform I found among the ship's supplies, and it was a simple enough process, although reprogramming the nanites to accept recombined coding was a complex process, which was why I needed Wheeljack's assistance, and when the Matrix was applied, the sparkling you just saw was the result," Perceptor said. "This means we have the chance to. . ."

"Perceptor, stop," Optimus said. "I gave you permission to study the Matrix, not experiment. Do you have any idea what kind of position this puts me in? The humans are just starting to accept the possibility that our future here on their planet includes more than fighting. The idea that we could expand our numbers outside of conventional means might not sit very well with them. Now, I'm going to have to explain what happened here tonight. Please return the Matrix to me and remove yourself."

Perceptor started to say something more, but the look on his Prime's face silenced him. He reluctantly handed the Matrix back to the larger mech, walked away.

-----

Wheeljack watched Ratchet run scans on the sparkling, keeping his mouth shut. He figured he was in enough trouble for helping Perceptor, without adding annoying Ratchet to the mix. But he didn't have to say a word.

"Perceptor was correct in his evaluation," Ratchet said. "The sparkling is healthy, well-formed and functioning within acceptable parameters."

"That's good to hear," Wheeljack said. "But there's only one problem that I can see."

Ratchet frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure whose CNA we used in her creation," Wheeljack said.

-----

Kup hid his surprise when he was awakened by Optimus Prime. He let his leader into his quarters, sat down, his optics immediately straying to the object held in Optimus' hands.

"Is that what I think it is?" Kup asked.

"The Matrix of Leadership," Optimus said.

"Lad, I never thought I'd live to see it," Kup said. "I'd heard the stories, knew it was lost, and here it is."

"Would you like to hold it in your hands?" Optimus said.

"Lad, I'm not worthy," Kup said.

"Kup, it's seen more hands in the past few days than it has in millennia," Optimus said.

"Just seein' it's enough," Kup said. "Now, what's brought you here? Have something to do with the Matrix?"

"Yes," Optimus said.

"Did Perceptor do something he wasn't supposed to be doing?"

"How do you know about that?" Optimus asked.

"Hot Rod mentioned in passing today you gave Perceptor permission to study the Matrix, and he thought that might be a bad idea," Kup said.

"He was right," Optimus said.

"So what happened?" Kup said.

Optimus sat down. "Perceptor used the the opportunity to study the Matrix as a chance to conduct an experiment, resulting in the creation of a sparkling."

"And that's bad?" Kup said. "A new life. That's something to be grateful for, but the thought of Perceptor raising a sparkling. . ."

"Therein lies one of the problems," Optimus said. "He conducted his experiment without much consideration for his chances of success, and I don't think he'd be willing to take that kind of responsibility for his creation. Just what am I going to do about this? The sparkling is currently in stasis on the Xantium. We could leave her there indefinitely, but I cannot bear the thought of leaving one so young alone like that. . ."

"'Her?'" Kup asked. "It's a femme?"

"Yes," Optimus said.

"Well, here's a thought--you could try Mirage and Hound. They're bonded, maybe they would consider taking her?"

"That's a viable option," Optimus said.

"So is letting her be raised like we all raised Bumblebee and Bluestreak," Kup said.

"Also a good idea," Optimus said, standing. "I know what option I would choose, but think it wise to inform the humans of what happened before making any decisions."

"I don't envy you, lad," Kup said. He also stood, clapped Optimus on the shoulder. "But you know you can always talk to me."

"Thank you, Kup," Optimus said.

-----

Hot Rod had the Matrix back, was up to speed on why his fellow Prime was so angry and now waiting for the other mech, who was in a conference call in his office with Lennox and Gen. Morshower. Hot Rod was relieved Galloway was excluded. Primus only knew what Optimus would do with him in on the current discussion. He was taking full responsibility for the entire incident, considering he'd authorized the study of the Matrix to be conducted.

He stretched, bored out of his mind with waiting. What would happen would happen. Hot Rod understood why Optimus was so bent out of shape, but the addition of one sparkling on base wasn't going to upset the natural order. Neither would Arcee's twins when they arrived. Life would go on, and what were the humans going to do if more of their Autobot allies paired up and reproduced? It was none of their damn business, he thought.

Hot Rod couldn't pursue the thought any further, his attention focusing on Optimus' door as it opened. Lennox exited first, looked up, nodded as he passed by. Optimus came next.

"Gen. Morshower was much more understanding than anticipated," Optimus said. "He agreed with my decision that the sparkling be brought out of stasis, on the condition that the Matrix is not used in such a manner again."

"That's good news," Hot Rod said. "But what about a situation like what happened with Prowl?"

"We did not address that," Optimus said. "Come. Would you like to go with me to talk to Ratchet?"

-----

Ratchet was annoyed. Red Alert ignored his grumbling, but she sympathized with him. For once. Not like she'd tell him that. Nope. Anyway, she had much more important information to impart to the CMO.

"I've counted and re-counted," Red Alert said. "There have only been four mechs injured seriously enough in the past few months to merit having a CNA sample pulled. Please tell me you know what lab samples you have sitting around. . ."

"I'm waiting for you to support my own conclusions," Ratchet said.

"Fine. Whatever," Red Alert said. "Those mechs are Rodimus, Ironhide, Prowl and Optimus Prime. Wheeljack said the CNA sample he checked was sampled, cut, resequenced and recombined, meaning a sample from only one mech was used."

"And Wheeljack did not know which one, and Perceptor won't say," Ratchet said. "Which leaves the option of taking a sample from the sparkling. . ."

He trailed off, seeing Red Alert go from looking at him to having a panicked look in her optics. Red Alert did not panic. She was not the panicking type. Concerned, Ratchet turned around, seeing both Primes standing just inside the med bay door.

"Take a sample of what?" Optimus asked, arms crossed.

"There's a matter regarding the sparkling that we need to discuss," Ratchet said.

"There is indeed," Optimus said. "She is to be brought out of stasis."

"What? You can't be serious," Ratchet said. "It will be fine. . ."

"I should make you her primary care-giver," Optimus said.

"Now hold on," Ratchet said.

"Ratchet, for once, can you just do as I ask and not argue?" Optimus asked.

"Why should I when you left the sparkling in charge and you're not even on active duty right now?" Ratchet said.

"Ratch, I would not pick now to challenge Optimus' authority," Hot Rod said. "Not a good time."

"For once, I concur with Rodimus," Optimus said. "Get off your aft. You're going with me to the Xantium to retrieve the sparkling."

-----

A half hour later, both Primes watched as Red Alert reached into the stasis field, slipping her hands beneath the sparkling as Ratchet deactivated it. They waited a few seconds, watched as the sparkling started to squirm, onlined her optics and emitted a high-pitched wail.

Ratchet took the sparkling from Red Alert.

"It's all right," he said. "Welcome, little one."


	53. Chapter 53

Precipitous

Chapter 53-Admittance

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Sunstreaker couldn't recharge. Between Arcee's restlessness of late and Sideswipe's nocturnal activities, he couldn't rest. The gold twin actually cracked a grin at the thought of Sideswipe. His poor twin was trying to exhibit some self-control with Prowl because it had only been a week since he'd been brought back. But Sunstreaker knew they realized how lucky they were to have a second chance, and he was grateful for it, too. 'Sides was happy, Jazz was back to his old self and Prowl was smiling more. The humans believed everything happened for a reason, and Sunstreaker was beginning to believe it, too.

Although at the moment he could not fathom what had prompted Perceptor to do what he had with the Matrix. Leave it to the scientist to find a way to bypass the natural order of things. Sunstreaker had to admit the sparkling was cute. Petra, he corrected himself. She'd finally been given a name a few days before. Optimus Prime himself had named her, choosing her name from the place the Matrix was found, the ancient city of Petra. It fit, Sunstreaker mused. And speaking of names, he and Arcee had finally settled on names for their twins. He smiled. Not too much longer to wait now.

-----

Red Alert tried to disengage the angry, shrieking sparkling from her arms but she would not let go.

"I only need to set you down for a minute," the medic said. "I need to put these tools away or Hatchet will yell at me. . ."

"Need help?"

Red Alert turned around, seeing Hot Rod walking into the med bay.

"I heard you, and her, and it sounded like you could use some help. . ." he said.

Petra stopped warbling and turned her optics to the new arrival. She whistled at Hot Rod, then emitted a string of clicks and chirps.

"You always did have a way with femmes," Red Alert said, cocking an optic ridge at Hot Rod.

He shrugged.

"Still need help?"

"Yes, can you hold her a minute?"

"Is that wise? I've never held a sparkling before," he said.

"Hold out your arms," Red Alert said, ignoring his comment. Hot Rod did as told, watched as Petra settled into his arms. She looked up at him a second, clicked at him, and Hot Rod nearly dropped her as he felt the Matrix flare to life inside his chest for just a second. Petra then laid her head against his chest, chirped happily and dropped into recharge.

He smiled down at the sparkling, but it faded as he looked at Red Alert, who was standing with her arms crossed, clearly annoyed.

"How did you get her to do that?" she asked.

Hot Rod shrugged.

"Want her back?" he asked.

"Not just yet," Red Alert said. "Mind watching her a few minutes while I pick up around here?"

"I have to be on duty in ops in 15 minutes," Hot Rod said.

"You're Prime," Red Alert said. "You can be late."

Hot Rod grinned. "One good thing about being Prime," he said.

"It's good to see you're finally accepting it," Red Alert said.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" Hot Rod asked.

"You do, and we both know how well fighting against everything has worked, don't we?" she said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod replied. "Look, not to change the subject, but have you talked to Kup?"

Red Alert stopped what she was doing. "No. Why?"

"You should," Hot Rod said.

"I have nothing to say to him," Red Alert said.

"He has plenty to say to you if you'd just listen," Hot Rod said.

"Kup can talk until the Pit freezes over, and. . ."

"Easy, Red," Hot Rod said. "How long are you going to blame him. . ."

"We are not having this conversation," she said. "Give me Petra and get out."

"Quit being so stubborn," Hot Rod said. "And I'm not giving her back yet. I've still got a few minutes."

Red Alert sighed, giving the young Prime and recharging sparkling a long, hard look. Petra was only a week old, but she'd already made the acquaintance of everyone on base. Most of the time she was an agreeable sparkling, but she got on better with some bots than others. Rodimus was one the sparkling had taken to immediately, further arousing the medic's suspicions as to who the little one's sire was.

Finally aware he was under scrutiny, Hot Rod looked up, meeting Red Alert's optics.

"What?" he asked, suspicious of the way the femme was regarding him.

"I'm getting the impression you're still operating under the assumption that Petra is not yours," Red Alert said.

"I am," Hot Rod answered. "No way something this perfect could come from me. I'm betting she's Optimus'."

Red Alert snorted. She did not voice her knowledge that there was indeed a betting pool and most of the high grade was not riding on Optimus Prime.

"And you said it yourself--her coloring, at this stage in development, doesn't mean anything," Hot Rod said.

"Keep telling yourself that, Rodi," Red Alert said.

"Besides, what would I do if she were mine? I have no idea even how to begin taking care of her, and. . ."

Red Alert put a finger to his lips.

"Stop. Don't worry about that," she said. "If she is yours, I'd be willing to continue taking care of her as I am right now, if you'd let me. And there's always Optimus. . ."

"Red. . ."

"Don't 'Red' me," she said. "I'll take her back now. You're going to be late for duty."

Hot Rod reluctantly handed back the sleeping sparkling, walked out of the med bay, shaking his head in frustration.

-----

Prowl walked into Optimus Prime's office, sat down on the corner of the Autobot leader's desk, causing the bigger mech to do a double take.

"Prowl, are you feeling all right?" Optimus asked.

"I feel fine, Optimus. Tired, but fine," Prowl said. "There's no need to worry."

"Prowl, I've been exactly where you are," Optimus said gently. "If you need to talk. . ."

"I was about to tell you the same thing," he said.

"I. . ." Optimus started, but stopped, seeing the look in his friend's optics.

"You're not supposed to be here working," Prowl said.

"Neither are you," Optimus countered.

"I'm not," Prowl said. "I'm checking up on you. There is a difference. And don't grumble at me. Do you want Ratchet on your case? Although I believe I currently have a legitimate reason to do so myself, and I think you need to hear what I have to say."

Optimus frowned.

"When are you going to come to your senses?" Prowl asked.

"About?"

"Don't play dumb with me," Prowl said. "Rodimus."

"What about Rodimus?" Optimus asked innocently, suddenly very interested in the data pad on his desk, which Prowl snatched away.

Prowl hopped down off the desk, grabbed Optimus' face in his hands, forcing him to meet his optics.

"Whatever you're afraid of, wouldn't it be better to face it with someone instead of spending all your time alone? Optimus, you deserve some happiness," Prowl said. "Don't throw away that chance."

"I'm not," Optimus said. "We both agreed. . ."

"Agreements can be renegotiated," Prowl said. "Or broken and new bonds made. I've already made one mistake the mistake you're making, and I'll try not to do that again."

"You're talking about Sideswipe and Jazz, aren't you?"

"Yes," Prowl said, smiling. "At least think about what I've said, all right?"

"I'll try," Optimus said, standing.

"Good," Prowl said, starting to walk away, but he suddenly found himself engulfed in a hug from his Prime.

"It's good to have you back, my friend," Optimus said.

-----

Ironhide was tired of waiting. Taking matters into his own hands was something he'd never had problems with. Even facing down an angry Prime or two wasn't something he was afraid of. But waiting on Ratchet to decide to run the necessary tests to determine Petra's sire was getting old. The not knowing was weighing on Optimus and Rodimus was in denial. Prowl had the necessary patience to wait it out, but Ironhide did not. Didn't matter to him one way or another if the sparkling was his, because there was not point getting worked up until one knew the truth.

His decision made, Ironhide made his way to the lab, figuring he'd find Perceptor there. And he was right.

"'Jack, I'd leave if I were you: Ironhide commed.

The engineer's optics widened for a second before he lit out of the lab like his aft was on fire, sparing Perceptor only the slightest of glances as he ran past.

The scientist watched with detached interest, more focused on his work than Ironhide's presence.

"Good evening, Ironhide," Perceptor said.

"Percy, cut the small talk," Ironhide said. "I'm sure it's come to you and that overdeveloped processor of yours why I'm here."

"I have indeed arrived at several possible outcomes," Perceptor said.

"Is that so?"

"Yes," Perceptor said. "The most logical reason is to ascertain the identity of Petra's sire."

"Correct," Ironhide said. "So, Percy, who is it?"

"I would rather reveal that news in person, and in private, if I must," Perceptor said.

"How about to Prime with both of my cannons to your head?" Ironhide said.

"There is no need for violence," Perceptor said.

"Obviously there was if a threat is the only way to get you to talk," Ironhide said.

"I was waiting for the appropriate amount of time to pass. . ."

"What, when Petra's fully grown?" Ironhide said. "C'mon. We're going to see Prime."

-----

Hot Rod was annoyed he'd been pulled off the watch for the gathering he was no attending. He leaned against the wall in Optimus' office, arms crossed listening to Perceptor yammer on. Ironhide looked bored, Optimus angry and Prowl's expression was unreadable. Ratchet was there just because he could be, and apparently, because no one else was going to be the voice of reason.

"Perceptor, shut up and just get this over with," Ratchet said.

Perceptor stopped talking, looking as if he he'd just been shot.

"Yes, well then. . ." he said. "The CNA sample used was chosen because Optimus was ruled out because of his prior experience with the Matrix, and I. . ."

"Perceptor," Ironhide warned.

"Cretin," Perceptor muttered, regaining his composure. "I used Rodimus' CNA because he was the youngest, and considering he is a Prime, he was the ideal choice. . ."

"What?"

The response from Rodimus was surprisingly calm, Optimus noted. He didn't raise his voice, but the balled fists and the spike in his energy field gave away his true emotional state.

"Repeat that again," Rodimus said.

"You are Petra's sire," Perceptor said.

What happened next wasn't a surprise. It took Optimus and Ironhide to pry Hot Rod off the scientist, and took both of them to hold the younger Prime back.

"You had no right," Hot Rod snapped, trying to pull away from the bigger mechs.

"Rodimus, violence toward Perceptor will not change facts," Optimus said, gripping the struggling Prime harder. "Consider yourself lucky to be blessed with what others would lay down their lives for. Calm yourself."

Optimus relaxed his grip as he felt a little of the other Prime's fight go out of him.

"How can I be a sire when I've never. . ." Hot Rod started, then immediately shut up.

"What?" Optimus asked.

"Nothing," Hot Rod said.

"Ratchet, get Perceptor out of here. Ironhide, go with them," Optimus said. "I'd like to talk to Rodimus alone."

Ironhide let go of Hot Rod, squeezed him on the shoulder as he left. Once they were alone, Optimus shoved Hot Rod toward a chair.

"Are you all right?" Optimus asked.

"I will be," Hot Rod said. "But how am I going to. . ."

"Take care of a sparkling? You'll have help," Optimus said. "You're not alone, Rodimus. I know you're close to Red Alert, and since she's already taking care of Petra, do you think she would be open to the idea of continuing to do so?"

"Funny you should mention that," Hot Rod said. "Red already said as much earlier tonight."

"Good," Optimus said. "You are lucky, Rodimus, with the beginnings of a family unit in place. . ."

"I am not, and have never been interested in Red Alert the way everyone keeps assuming," Hot Rod said, standing. "We're close, but we're just friends. Get that through your processor."

"Calm down," Optimus said, reaching out, putting his hands on Hot Rod's shoulders. "It will be all right."

"Easy for you to say," Hot Rod muttered.

"I told you before, I'd be willing to help you out, and not just with Petra now," Optimus said.

"A quick 'face?" Hot Rod said. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"We agreed a serious relationship would. . ."

"Yes, I know, but since when is a casual relationship a viable option?" Hot Rod said. "If we're going to pursue this, Optimus, it's all or nothing."

He reached up, pulled Optimus' head down, kissed him quickly, let him go. "Think about that," Hot Rod said, walking away.

Optimus leaned against the desk, unsteady, watching him go.


	54. Chapter 54

Precipitous

Chapter 54-Notice

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod headed down the corridor, trying not think, cursing his recklessness. He wanted to go back, knew he should just head back to Optimus' office and have it out. . .but no. Too much left unsaid between them, and responsibility and duty and frag. . .He stopped, torn, fighting hard to resist the urge to turn around. I could, he thought. I should. But he didn't. He pressed on, deciding on an alternate course of action. He headed for Red Alert's quarters instead.

He rang the chime, waited for her to answer. The door immediately slid open, the femme waiting inside.

"I figured you'd be by," Red Alert said.

"Why?" Hot Rod asked.

"Ratchet told me what happened," she said. "And if you're wanting to see Petra, she's with Ratchet. He thought I could use a break."

"Thanks for watching her," Hot Rod said.

"You're welcome," Red Alert said. "Like I told you before, that won't change unless you want it to."

"I don't, for now," Hot Rod said.

"Sooner or later you're going to have to take responsibility for her," Red Alert said.

"I know," he said. "But it's. . ."

"Not fair?" Red Alert said.

"No," Hot Rod said.

"I don't think Petra will suffer from a lack of attention at all," Red Alert said. "So don't worry about that."

"I'm not," Hot Rod said.

"Then what's really bothering you?" she said.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Hot Rod said. "Look, I'd better go."

-----

Ratchet regarded the recharging sparkling curled contentedly in his arms. Taking care of Petra, even for a short time, was one of his more pleasant duties of late. No death, destruction or pain involved, beyond the pain Optimus and Ironhide kept Rodimus from inflicting on Perceptor earlier. That reminded the medic--he and Perceptor were going to have a nice, long discussion about ethics. Not that the scientist wasn't responsible, but sometimes Perceptor got carried away. Like the circumstances leading up to Petra's creation.

The medic knew he was partly responsible, leaving Perceptor alone as he had, but he trusted the scientist, and he'd been rewarded with the present situation. Wheeljack had even apologized for his part in the incident. Perceptor had not. Prime hadn't decided on a punishment yet, and Ratchet was beginning to wonder if there were going to be repercussions. Maybe Optimus was going to let Rodimus decide? Not a pleasant thought, Ratchet reflected.

-----

Graham stifled a yawn, checked his watch. Optimus Prime, Ratchet and Lennox had been inside the Autobot leader's office more than a half-hour, talking. The soldier waited patiently, glad the meeting meant no conference with Morshower and avoidance of a confrontation with Galloway. The national security advisor was annoyed with the latest incident on base, asked why he wasn't informed there was a new Autobot among their ranks. Graham knew Morshower neglected to mention anything else about Petra, choosing instead to try and give the Autobots the space they needed to deal with the situation without human interference. Good thing, too, Graham thought. It was no one's business beyond NEST.

The office door slid open, causing Graham to snap to attention as Lennox exited, followed by Ratchet. The medic nodded at the two humans as he passed by. Once he was gone, Lennox turned his attention to his second in command.

"I'll fill you in on what that was about later. Before I do, you definitely need to talk to Rodimus," Lennox said. "Right now, I want you to go help Jazz run the drills. There's something I need to take care of, so I'll join you later."

"Yes, sir," Graham said.

-----

Ironhide parked at the edge of the road, stopping long enough to let out his human occupant.

"Will, are you sure you want to do this?" Ironhide asked.

"I volunteered, didn't I?" Lennox said, exiting the black truck. Ironhide didn't answer. He drove away, leaving his friend alone. Will sighed, started walking down toward the beach. It didn't take long to reach his destination. He sat down in the sand by the Autobot.

"What do you want?" Hot Rod said.

"Just came to see how you're doing," Lennox said. "Optimus told me this morning about Petra, that she's yours. I know that had to be a shock."

Hot Rod hmphed.

"Look, becoming a father is a huge thing," Lennox said. "I mean, I had nine months to prepare, but still, it's life-altering. And you, you weren't even directly involved in the process, which makes it even more. . ."

"Difficult?" Hot Rod said.

"Yeah," Lennox said. "But. . .I'm sure you'll do fine. You've handled being in charge pretty well. . .I can't say I agree with your methods or logic, but it'll be OK."

"Don't sound so convincing," Hot Rod said.

"Rodimus, you haven't broken under the strain so far, and I think you'll handle this new development just as well," Lennox said. "You've done better than I expected."

Hot Rod looked down at the human.

"Thank you," he said.

"No problem," Lennox said. "C'mon, hot shot. You can give me a ride back."

-----

Kup sat with Springer in the rec room, enjoying the younger mech's company. The ancient Autobot half-listened to his friend talk, his thoughts occupied elsewhere. Springer was going off on Hot Rod's predicament, which really wasn't *his* predicament at all. He'd been forced into it, with no choice. First as Prime, now as a sire. If Kup didn't know better, he'd swear Primus was trying to tell the young mech something. Seemed like fate kept trying to throw Hot Rod hints about a certain other Prime.

He'd been watching them the past few days. Not many opportunities came about because of Hot Rod's duties and Optimus' supposed convalescence. They were treating each other with a little more courtesy, had been since after the night Hot Rod found out he was Petra's sire. At the moment, Kup was once again observing both Primes. They were sitting at a table together, separated by Ironhide, who was loudly telling a story about a training incident that day. Hot Rod had Petra, was feeding the sparkling, a smile on his face, while Optimus didn't look like he was paying attention to Ironhide. The Autobot leader looked distracted. Interesting.

". . .so I thought I'd tell you I've been. . ." Springer said, waving his hand in front of Kup's face, snapping the ancient mech back to the conversation.

"You've been what?" Kup said.

"Obviously not listening," Springer said.

"Sorry," Kup said. "I was. . ."

"Watching Rodi and Optimus like a hawk," Springer said. "Yeah, 'Hide was right, sparks do fly between them, but they haven't done a damn thing about it."

"Has anybody asked them why?" Kup said.

"Are you crazy?" Springer said. "I think it's stubbornness. Or maybe they're both afraid. I don't know. Right now they're getting along, so that's a step in the right direction."

"See ya later, Kup," Springer said. He stood, annoyed with the direction of the conversation. He'd told Ironhide no interfering, but it didn't mean he couldn't get in another jab at trying to push Rodi in the right direction. He walked over to their table.

"Hey, Rodi, can I borrow your stasis cuffs again?" Springer said.

Ironhide stopped talking. He looked from Springer to Optimus, who was giving Rodimus an expectant look.

"Would those be the cuffs I returned to you the other day?" Optimus asked.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said, un-subspacing the cuffs, handing them to Springer.

"Thanks, Rodi," Springer said, walking away. A few seconds later, he was gratified by the sounds of Ironhide catching up with him. It was going to be an interesting night.


	55. Chapter 55

Precipitous

Chapter 55-Beginning

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Most activities on base ground to a halt. The human and Cybertronian contingent of Diego Garcia occupied their time with various activities, including their duties, but who really cared at the moment? Ratchet tried keeping it quiet, but most everyone knew by now--Arcee was in the Cybertronian equivalent of labor.

Lennox glanced toward the Autobot hangar. No visible activity outside. Inside was another story, but he wasn't going over until asked. Prime and Prowl had their hands full keeping everyone occupied and concentrating on duty.

"I wonder how Sunny's holding up?" Epps asked. He was standing nearby, dribbling a basketball.

Lennox shrugged, looked up at Graham, who was sitting beside him on the picnic table they occupied. His second in command was sitting on the table itself, feet resting on the bench.

"He was online when Ratchet asked me to remove myself from the med bay," Graham said.

Epps didn't answer as he threw the ball toward the basket, watched it enter, running to retrieve it.

"C'mon you two--let's play a little ball. All this waitin' is killin' me," he said.

Lennox stood, joining his friend. He knew he and Graham would get their asses kicked, but it was a decent way to pass the time.

-----

Prowl walked into ops, not expecting the sight of Jazz holding Petra. Jazz grinned seeing Prowl. He got up from his post, walking over to meet Prowl. Blaster watched, optics widening when Jazz kissed Prowl on the cheek.

"You're on duty," Prowl said. "PDAs and sparkling sitting while on duty? You should know better."

"I do," Jazz said, still grinning, trying to get a raise out of Prowl. "And it's not your problem, Prowler, because you're *not* on duty. So pull up a chair."

"It's my problem because discipline is slipping," Prowl said. "Where is everyone else?"

"Gave 'em the day off," Jazz said. "Nothin' goin' on, at least not here in ops, and nobody can concentrate anyway, so. . ."

Prowl sighed, knowing Jazz was right. He took a seat by Jazz's station.

"Have you seen Blue?" he asked.

"Not since this mornin,'" Jazz said. "He's scheduled for weapons practice this afternoon, and Ironhide wasn't gonna let anybody get out of it, so that's probably where he is. Why?"

"No reason," Prowl said.

"How's 'Sides?"

"Keeping Sunstreaker company, although I am surprised Ratchet let them both stay in the med bay," Prowl said.

"Somebody has to keep Sunny calm," Jazz said. "It's not everyday you become a sire."

He looked down at the sparkling cradled in the crook of his arm. Petra clicked and whirred at him.

"Makes ya want one, doesn't it, Prowler?"

"Three sparklings on base is enough for now," he said.

-----

Three hours, twenty-two minutes and 17 seconds after going into labor, Ratchet and Red Alert delivered the two newest additions to the base. An hour after that, when Arcee was comfortable, the new twins were checked out and their sire and uncle still standing, Ratchet left the med bay to go tell the others the good news.

Except he didn't have far to go. Waiting outside in the corridor were most of the base's Autobot personnel and a few of the humans, including Lennox, Graham and Epps.

"What in the Pit are you all doing out here?" Ratchet asked. "You can't have been waiting all this time. . .oh for the love of Primus. They're fine--Arcee, Sunstreaker, and their twins--a healthy pair of mechs. I might let Sunstreaker bring them out if he and Arcee will agree to it."

He walked back inside the med bay.

"You hear all that?" Ratchet asked, looking between Arcee, who was sitting up on the berth, holding one of her offspring, and Sunstreaker, who was seated on the edge of the berth beside her.

"It's OK if everyone sees them?" Sunstreaker asked.

"A few minutes, and no more," Ratchet said. "They need to rest, and I'm sure you and Arcee would like to spend time alone bonding with your little ones."

"It's all right, Sunny," Arcee said. "If they've all been waiting, they deserve the chance to see them."

"All right," Sunstreaker said. He stood, carrying one of his sons, while Arcee handed the other to Sideswipe. "C'mon, 'Sides."

They walked out together to introduce the twins, Terran and Lancer, to the rest of the Autobots.

-----

Optimus Prime looked around the rec room, happier than he'd been in a very long time. The place was packed with his Autobots and many of their human allies. The high grade was flowing and so was the human equivalent. Celebrating the advent of new life was something their species had in common. And the celebration showed no sign of ending soon.

However, as the Autobot leader glanced around the room, he noticed one mech was conspicuously absent. He frowned, realizing this. Kup, who was sitting beside him, noticed.

"What's the matter lad?"

"Where is Rodimus?" Optimus asked.

"He slipped out about an hour ago," Kup said. "Why?"

"I noticed he was no longer here," Optimus said.

"Then why don't you go find him?" Kup said. "If I were you, I'd check the beach."

Optimus stood, clasping Kup on the shoulder.

"Thanks, old friend," he said.

Minutes later, the Autobot leader found himself out on the stretch of sand with the other Prime. Rodimus didn't look up as the other mech lowered himself down on the sand, sitting down beside him.

"You're missing the party," Optimus said.

Hot Rod shrugged. "I wanted to be alone," he said.

"I can leave," Optimus said.

"No point. You just got here," Hot Rod said.

Optimus didn't respond, and the seconds stretched into an awkward silence, until he decided to end it.

"I've been thinking about what you said. . ."

Hot Rod gave his companion a sidelong glance. "Anything in particular?"

"Don't feign innocence with me, sparkling," Optimus said. "That night--in my office, what you said, about all or nothing between us. . ."

"Oh, that," Hot Rod said.

"I've been thinking it about it, as you asked, and. . ."

To the Pit and hell, Optimus thought. He turned, reached to touch Rodimus' face. The other mech didn't pull away, which Optimus accepted as an invitation. He kissed Rodimus, which he returned. Arms wrapped around him and Optimus moved to lower them both down to the sand. . .and he felt Rodimus stiffen, breaking away.

Optimus let him go, sat back.

"What is it?"

"Blaster commed me. I have to go," Hot Rod said. "Cometary form, broadcasting a distress signal. It won't respond to any attempts to communicate. NORAD's tracked it, and Perceptor and Wheeljack extrapolated its probable landing sight. . ."

"Go. You're needed," Optimus said. "But. . .I need to say something before you go. I think before we proceed any farther, we need to talk. . .I have much I need to share with you, and I know we've had our difficulties trusting one another and what I have to say might further. . ."

"Optimus, don't," Hot Rod said. "I know. . ."

He wrapped his arms around the bigger mech, pressed his helm to his for a moment. Then he was gone.


	56. Chapter 56

Precipitous

Chapter 56-Complications

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

18 hours later

Optimus Prime walked down the corridor to the med bay, a firm grip on the struggling sparkling in his arms. He wondered why, invariably, did *he* end up with Petra? The little femme warbled, and he answered back in Cybertronian. She didn't understand, but the sound seemed to soothe her. In the middle of a situation, and he, Optimus Prime, was sparkling-sitting. Lennox walked alongside him, explaining just what the hell was going on, at least what he understood from the garbled communication received in ops minutes before.

"They're coming in by orbital bounce any minute now," he said. "Graham said they weren't sure it was an Autobot at first, but it is. I don't have a name. Ratchet's already been notified. . ."

He stopped talking when he heard shouting. Unintelligible shouting. In Cybertronian. He, along with Optimus, Ratchet and Red Alert, all looked down the corridor. Coming at them were Rodimus and Kup, hauling a large protoform between them.

Optimus stared until Rodimus commed him.

:Unload Petra and get over here and help us NOW. Slag-head here won't listen to a damn word we say. Jazz offlined the weapons systems, so he can't hurt anyone. And he's pissed I shot off his leg. Not like he wasn't asking for it:

The Autobot leader handed the sparkling to Red Alert, running over to help relieve Kup of his burden. The large mech between them suddenly looked up at Optimus, recognition hitting them both.

"Ultra Magnus?"

The big mech only nodded.

:Why can't he speak?:

:Jazz disabled his vocalizer, and his internal comm is damaged, which is why he wouldn't acknowledge our hails:

Seconds later, they had Ultra Magnus situated on a berth while Ratchet set to work. Optimus noticed Red Alert glaring at Magnus, but didn't say anything. He watched as Rodimus walked over to the medic, relieving her of his sparkling.

"Hey, bright-spark," Hot Rod said, kissing the sparkling on her helm. "Gotta get going again, make sure aft-head over there didn't hurt anyone too bad. Red and Optimus will look after you until I get back."

"You're going?" Optimus asked.

"Roadbuster is going to bounce Kup and I back to the crash site. I promised Jazz I wouldn't stay gone long because we need to clean up. Aft-head. . .I mean Ultra Magnus shot first. Graham's hurt and so are a few other others, including Ironhide."

Optimus shot Magnus a look, earning himself a glare from the other Autobot, who was angry and confused.

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you when I get back," Hot Rod said, handing Petra to the other Prime. He caressed the sparkling's helm, squeezed Optimus' hand. He then followed Kup outside, disappearing in a blaze of light.

-----

Once again, Optimus Prime was taking care of Rodimus' sparkling. Not for too much longer. The C-17s carrying the young Prime and his team would be landing any minute. Then would come a quick de-brief and Petra would be reunited with her errant sire. Not that Optimus minded. He liked taking care of her. It gave him something to do besides sit around and get better.

"What're you thinking?"

He snapped back to reality at the sound of a voice. Ratchet came walking into his office, threw himself down on the chair across from his Prime.

"Not much," Optimus said. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a favor to ask," Ratchet said. "I'll even beg if you want, if that's what it takes."

"What?"

"Remove me from active duty," Ratchet said. "Please."

Optimus sat back, amused.

"You know I can't do that," he said.

"Won't is more like it," Ratchet said.

"I seem to recall you removed me from active duty not too long ago," Optimus said. "Why do you ask me to return the favor?"

"Ultra Magnus is driving me crazy," Ratchet said. "Red won't go near him, I can't get her to come in the med bay at all, so she's taking patients in the lab. So I'm having to deal with the slagger all by myself. I think I'm going to have to prescribe some sedatives. . ."

"For him?"

"For me," Ratchet said. "Come to think of it, that's not a bad idea. . .he could use some recharge. But before I knock him out, go see him, please? He's asking for you."

"If I go see Magnus, that will be a favor to you," Optimus said. "You will owe me. . ."

"Yeah, so what?"

"Put me back on active duty," Optimus said.

"Are you crazy?"

"You said. . ."

"All right. A few hours a day then," Ratchet said.

"Eight," Optimus said.

"Two," Ratchet said.

"Seriously?"

"Go see Magnus before I change my mind," Ratchet said.

Optimus stood, started to walk out of his office, thinking he probably shouldn't take Petra with him. He looked back, but Ratchet was in recharge.

-----

"I apologize ahead of time, Petra, for anything unpleasant you might hear," Optimus said. "Magnus really is a good mech, one of my oldest and closest friends, but he can be. . .uptight."

Petra clicked happily as he walked down the corridor. The Autobot leader smiled at her as he turned into the med bay.

"About time you decided to come see me," Ultra Magnus said, seeing his leader.

"I've been busy," Optimus replied.

"Obviously," Magnus said, optics dropping to the sparkling in his Prime's arms.

"A sparkling. That means you found the Allspark?"

"Yes, we did," Optimus said. "But. . .you don't remember seeing Petra the other night?"

"I don't remember much, but I do remember seeing you with her," Magnus said. "Petra--that the sparkling's name?"

"Yes," Optimus said. "Anymore questions?"

"More than you can imagine," Magnus said. "But they can wait. My friend, you have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"As am I," Optimus said.

"There is one question you can answer--these organics, do you trust them?"

"Implicitly," Optimus said. "Magnus, I don't want to cut our visit short, but Ratchet was insistent you try and get some rest."

"All right," Magnus said, settling back on the berth.

-----

It was late by the time Hot Rod saw to everything needing his attention. The de-brief with Gen. Morshower was short, due to Graham's condition and the rest of the team's various injuries. The fact his friend was injured angered Hot Rod, but nothing could be done to change it. Graham would recover, but was looking at several days in the base infirmary.

That all of the injuries were caused by an Autobot stung even more. Failure to communicate with Ultra Magnus and the other Autobot's own lack of knowledge about the situation lead to the fire fight. Hot Rod knew Ultra Magnus wasn't really to blame, but a part of him did hold the other Autobot responsible, just because he could.

With the rest of his team squared away--either in their quarters or getting repairs or medical attention, Hot Rod could relax. Just a little. His own minor damage could wait until morning for repairs. Seeing Petra was a priority, because Red Alert and Optimus would both chew his aft if he didn't check up on his kid before doing anything else not duty related. Checking up on Red and Optimus was also on his mind. Red because of Magnus' presence, and its affects, and Optimus, just because.

:Red:

He waited, was gratified seconds later when the medic commed back.

:What do you want?:

:Seeing how you are. Everything going OK?:

:Slag off:

So not OK. He switched tactics.

:Petra with you?:

:No. She's with Prime:

:Avoiding Magnus is not going to make the past go away:

:I told you to slag off:

:Red. . .:

No response. He vented air, sighing.

-----

With Petra fed, settled into her berth for recharge, Optimus figured there was nothing left for him to do besides try and get some rest himself. He turned off the lights, went to his own berth, started to lay back. The chime going off brought him back to his feet. He opened the door, not surprised to see Rodimus standing outside.

:Quiet. Petra only just settled down into recharge: Optimus commed. :And speaking of *your* daughter, I think you need to take more responsibility for her:

:I will: Hot Rod said. :I'm here because I wanted to see her, and you, slagger. I thought you'd want to know what happened with Ultra Magnus, also. Have you talked to him?:

:Very little. Ratchet said he's dire need of rest and repairs, but he's resisting, so Ratchet sedated him, but only for a few hours. If you're going to stay, sit down: Optimus said.

Hot Rod came in, grabbed the chair from Optimus' desk, taking a seat.

:Ultra Magnus was still in his cometary form in the crater. We ran several scans, tried communicating, but had no success. Graham gave the order for his team to move in and I went with them, providing cover if needed. Ironhide and Kup did the same. Everything was going fine. . .I think what set it all off was one of the Hummers getting too close. . .Ultra Magnus transformed and unleashed. I barely got in front of Graham and the others in time. After that it didn't take us long to incapacitate Ultra Magnus, and only then, did really start to pay attention to what was going on. He saw Kup and Ironhide, started to calm down, then he couldn't stop apologizing for shooting at us. That's when Jazz stepped in, offlined his vocalizer. He tried shutting him down, but he wouldn't let us, which is when we made the decision to get him back here as quickly as possible:

:How is Graham?: Optimus asked.

:He was the worst out of the humans. He's cut up, bruised, has another dislocated shoulder and a couple of broken ribs. He was pretty pissed at first, but he's calmed down. He'll be in the infirmary several days at least:

:The others?:

:Ironhide's scuffed up and he got a cannon shot off. Jazz and Kup are fine, Tracks took a hit to his shoulder, and it's being seen to tonight. Ironhide is planning on getting looked at tomorrow. So am I:

:Make sure you do. I won't have Ratchet shouting at *me* because you didn't get medical attention when needed:

:I don't exactly want to have to spend time in the med bay with Ultra Magnus:

:Why does everyone have such a problem with Magnus?: Optimus asked. :He's your friend. You don't see him as the rest of us see him. You've never served under him as a subordinate. You never had to stand on the other side of a desk during a disciplinary hearing with him meting out his own version of justice: Hot Rod said.

:No, but I have had to deal with him when he was liaison to the High Council, which put a strain on our friendship:

:Can we not talk about him anymore?: Hot Rod said. :I'd love to get some recharge:

:Convenient you're here then: Optimus said. :You're welcome to stay here tonight:

-----

Hot Rod helped Springer hold Ironhide down while Ratchet administered the necessary anesthesia to knock out the weapons specialist.

"You can stay if you want," Ratchet said to Springer. "But stay out of the way."

Springer moved out of the medic's path, pulled up a seat well away from the surgical berth. Hot Rod squeezed his friend on the shoulder, before going over to Ultra Magnus' berth, where Optimus was talking with the other Autobot. Optimus again had Petra, but Hot Rod planned on spending a little of his free time with his sparkling.

"Optimus, I'll take Petra for a while," he said.

"All right," Optimus said, handing her over to the other Prime. He smiled as Petra snuggled against her sire's chest. "She's missed you."

"I can see that," Hot Rod said. "I've missed her, too, but. . ."

"Then go, Rodimus," Optimus said.

Hot Rod spared the Autobot leader a smile, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by.

Once he was gone, Optimus returned his attention to Magnus, who was looking at him, clearly confused.

"What is going on?" Magnus asked. "Rodimus? Since when is Hot Rod 'Rodimus?'"

"Much has changed, Magnus," Optimus said.

"And that sparkling. . .who does she belong to? You seem to spend a lot of time with her," Magnus said.

"I do, and others are also helping take care of Petra," Optimus said.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was Hot Rod's," Magnus said.

"She is," Optimus said.

"You let him procreate?" Magnus said, incredulous.

"Would it make you feel better to know that Petra is also mine and Rodimus is my consort?" Optimus asked.

At that, Ratchet stopped what he was doing and looked over at the two. He glanced at Springer, who was also watching the scene with amusement. However, the triple changer couldn't keep a straight face.

"You're jesting," Magnus said.

"I am," Optimus said. "Rodimus is her sire. Leave it at that for now."

"Would you mind explaining. . ."

"Magnus. . ." Ratchet warned. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day. Follow orders and you'll be out of here sooner."

"He's right," Optimus said. "I'll see you later."

Magnus watched him go, more confused than before.

-----


	57. Chapter 57

Precipitous

Chapter 57-Variation

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime justified reading "Skippy's List" as an educational experience. If asked, he said it was to help counter any possible prank outbreaks. In reality, it was because his own skills, dulled from long lack of use, needed honing. No. 71 was promising, Optimus thought, but he was the top of the chain of command. No. 75 had possibilities, but he wasn't that devious. Maybe not. No. 78 would work on Galloway, however, No. 107 actually happened once (sort of), and it wasn't in front of the press, but actually Sideswipe mocking Galloway in front of Morshower a few weeks after Egypt. Utilization of other items on the list already happened, such as 147. Jazz and Sideswipe made up several forms, which the third in command passed along to an unsuspecting Prowl. Maybe I can use it on Magnus, Optimus thought.

He saved the file, along with a reminder to talk to Graham about the list and the appropriateness of a member of the chain of command passing on the list to a superior. The soldier was still in the human infirmary, had been for two days, still had several to go. Optimus chalked up the soldier's email message to him including the list to boredom. He hoped.

The Autobot leader moved on to the next item on his data pad--Perceptor and Wheeljack's recommendations about telescopes. The engineer and scientist were beginning to work on ways to try and look for Decepticons in Earth's solar system. Interesting research, but it could wait until later.

Optimus set down the data pad, taking a look around the rec room. Empty except for himself. Not surprising, considering it was the middle of the afternoon and everyone had something to do. But not him, nothing official anyway. Ratchet's allowance of two hours a day on "active duty" was restricted to administrative work or monitor duty in ops. So much for helping take some of the load off Rodimus, or getting around Ratchet.

Rodimus. Optimus frowned. He hadn't seen much of the other Prime over the past couple of days because Rodimus was busy with his duties. He also wondered if he wasn't avoiding him because of what happened on the beach, or more to the point, what _hadn't_ happened.

"You don't look too happy."

His thoughts interrupted, Optimus focused on the Autobot standing before him.

"Kup, I'm fine," Optimus said, watching as the ancient mech pulled up a chair.

"Sure," Kup said. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Optimus answered.

"I didn't think you were supposed to be working," Kup said, pointing at Optimus' data pad.

"It's reading material," Optimus said.

"Work," Kup said. "I won't tell Ratchet if you don't."

"At least Ratchet is getting his own aft worked off right now," Optimus said. "Ultra Magnus is proving a difficult patient."

"I know," Kup said. "He keeps badgering Ratchet for information, which he won't get until he's out of the med bay."

"Magnus has also taken to comming me all hours of the night and day since Ratchet repaired his internal comm," Optimus said. "I can't recharge because of it."

"Then tell Ratchet, or I will for you," Kup said.

"I'll tell him myself," Optimus said. "Besides, I need to straighten out a thing or two with Magnus. He keeps speaking only in Cybertronian around the humans. He also keeps asking about the command structure, what his duties will be."

"Why are you letting Magnus think you're still in charge?" Kup asked.

"For the moment, it's easier," Optimus said. "Do you know what he'll do when he finds out Ratchet removed me from duty and Rodimus is in charge?"

"Can I be there when you tell him?" Kup asked, grinning.

"How about you go there right now and tell him for me and get it over with?" Optimus said.

"No."

"You should have seen Magnus when he found out Rodimus had a sparkling," Optimus said.

"Does he know about how she was created?" Kup said.

"Hardly," Optimus said. "Magnus could barely wrap his processor around the fact Rodimus is a sire."

"Not surprising," Kup said.

"Indeed," Optimus said.

"Ratchet isn't the only medic Magnus is causing problems for," Kup said.

"I'm well aware of the fact Red Alert is avoiding him," Optimus said. "Much like she will not occupy the same space as yourself, Kup."

"I can't blame her," Kup said.

"She still holds you responsible for what happened?" Optimus asked.

"Lad, I still blame myself," Kup said. "She lost her bond mate. . ."

"I know," Optimus said, reaching out, putting a hand on Kup's shoulder.

"Lad, I don't want to dwell on the past," Kup said, trying to change the subject. "How are things going with Hot Rod?"

"I haven't seen much of him since he returned from his last mission," Optimus said. "He's had much to occupy his time."

"Are you avoiding each other?" Kup asked.

"Hardly," Optimus said.

"Prove it," Kup said.

-----

Ratchet saw a theme to his day developing--sparklings. Actual sparklings in the med bay, or mechs acting like sparklings. Sunstreaker and Arcee brought Lancer and Terran for a check-up, as did Rodimus with Petra. The twins and the femme were all doing fine, but their respective parents not as well. Arcee and Sunstreaker were still trying to work out a routine, but it would come. At least they had each other, Ratchet mused. Then there was Rodimus--sire to a sparkling whose creation in which he was not directly involved. That part did not matter, at least not to Ratchet, and not to the young Prime, who actually paid attention to everything the medic said, and then repeated it back, word for word to make sure he had it all down.

Rodimus wasn't alone when it came to taking care of his offspring, but Ratchet had an idea that would benefit both. However, how well that individual would take to that idea was debatable. If taking Petra for a night and locking Optimus Prime and Rodimus in a supply closet would work, Ratchet was all for it. The two kept dancing around each other. The medic knew they had their reasons, but they needed to settle them and move on. Preferably together.

It fit, Ratchet thought, and the two Primes could make it work because it was obvious to everyone but *them* there was an attraction and Optimus was over the moon for Petra. If only solving the problem were that simple.

Then there was the other happy issue of his day. So far. Ultra Magnus and sparklings. The medic allowed himself a feral grin, grateful the great slagging heap of metal was out cold so he could gloat to himself.

The revelation Sunstreaker was a sire to twins and that they'd been sparked naturally almost caused Magnus to crash and glee on Ratchet's part. As a soldier, Magnus' own creation was similar to Petra's, except he'd come online at his moment of creation in a fully grown body with a specialized processor packed full of ways to wage war, much like Ironhide, born of the Allspark instead of the Matrix. The discussion about natural sparks lead to Magnus receiving a refresher course on what the humans called "the birds and the bees." Bad idea, Ratchet reflected.

But his day was almost over, and he could go relax. Grab some energon and maybe later, drag Wheeljack down to the beach and do something besides talk. . .

-----


	58. Chapter 58

Precipitous

Chapter 58-Repercussions

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

His first night taking care of Petra by himself went well, Hot Rod reflected. Not so well this night. The sparkling would not settle down into recharge no matter what he tried. She wouldn't take any energon, either. The frantic, unhappy warbling had him worried. He held her, walked her, even tried the rocking thing Lennox suggested, but nothing would work. It was late and he had an early start to his day in a few hours and they both needed their recharge. He'd already tried Red Alert and she wouldn't come out of her quarters for anything. His backup was looking more and more attractive for various reasons, none of which were personal, Hot Rod reminded himself. Optimus was good with Petra. Hell, he was good with sparklings, period, regardless of who they belonged to. He knew the Autobot leader had already spent a little time giving Arcee and Sunstreaker a short break from their twins so they could rest.

But common sense won out over pride. He was worried, needed help and didn't think anyone else would care in the middle of the night.

:Optimus: he commed, waiting.

:What is it?:

:I need your help with Petra. Could you please come to my quarters?:

A few minutes later, his door chimed and he let Optimus in. He raised an optic ridge when he heard how unhappy Petra was.

"Give her to me," Optimus said.

Hot Rod complied, watched with dismay as Petra suddenly seemed happier at being with someone else.

"How did you do that?" Hot Rod asked, dismayed.

"You were tense, and it was causing her unease," Optimus said. "I could sense your energy field outside the door. I've told you before I could help you with that. . ."

"Yeah, I know," Hot Rod said, sitting down on the edge of his berth, watching Optimus offer Petra one of his energon lines.

"I did not mean what you're thinking, although that could also prove beneficial," Optimus said, mirth in his optics.

"Or complicate things beyond belief," Hot Rod said.

"I think our relationship is already at that stage," Optimus said.

"Has been from the start," Hot Rod said. "Y'know, this whole damn thing would've been easier if. . ."

"No swearing in front of the sparkling," Optimus said. "But you were saying?"

"If I weren't a Prime. If I wasn't constantly plagued by doubt, I don't know," he said.

"You still doubt your own abilities?" Optimus said.

"It's not as bad as it was, but still, sometimes, I don't feel like I can do this," Hot Rod said.

Optimus put a hand on his shoulder. "You're doing a fine job," he said. "As a leader, and now as a sire."

"But what happens when you return to active duty? Do I go back to being a subordinate, or. . ."

"We'll worry about that when the time comes," Optimus said.

"Then there's Ultra Magnus to deal with," Hot Rod said. "You haven't told him about me, that I'm a Prime, have you?"

"No," Optimus said. "Leave Magnus to me."

"Thanks," Hot Rod said, sparing a moment to glance at Petra, who had fallen into recharge. Optimus noticed also, retracting his energon line. He stood, put the sparkling into her berth.

"See?" Optimus said. "Try and be calm."

"Easy for you to say," Hot Rod said. "You're Optimus Prime. I think there's a picture of you beside the words 'calm' and 'grounded' in the human dictionary."

"Unlikely," Optimus said.

"My aft," Hot Rod said. "You have more patience than anyone I know, well, besides Prowl."

"Patience is a virtue," Optimus said.

"One of the many I'm certain you have," Hot Rod countered.

"Believe me, my friend, I am far from perfect," Optimus said.

"I know," Hot Rod said. "Look, I've been meaning to ask. . .that night, on the beach, you said we needed to talk. . ."

"We do," Optimus said. "Although we seem to keep getting interrupted."

"Then what is it you need to tell me?" Hot Rod said.

"I need to try and explain first. . ." Optimus said. "I trust you to do my job, to see things through while I'm unable, yet you will not trust me with your spark. You keep pushing me away, and I'm afraid when you hear what I have to say, the little trust between us will be damaged beyond repair."

Hot Rod frowned.

"You think I trust you so little?" he asked.

"No," Optimus said.

"It's late," Hot Rod said. "Enough serious stuff. Recharge now."

"Are you asking me to stay?" Optimus said.

"Stay or go. Doesn't matter to me," Hot Rod said.

-----

Ratchet was content. Wheeljack was spooned up against him, his chin resting on his shoulder, audio to audio, occasionally muttering incoherently. The medic smiled. He'd missed the engineer, and the opportunity to renew their relationship was something neither could pass up. It mean complications, of course, like having to share his quarters, and the end of anything resembling order in his personal life. Ratchet smiled. He could live with that, as long as he could keep his med bay impeccable. Wouldn't stay that way much longer, but it meant one step closer to normal, or what resembled "normal" in his existence.

Hah. Normal. His species hadn't had normal in so long, or stability either. Well, nothing outside of constant fighting. Being on Earth, having a home, even though it was a military installation, provided stability of sorts. Still shaky, but it was better than nothing at all. Things could change, the medic knew, but he was willing to take what good he could find. Like Wheeljack back in his life.

Then he heard the door chime. What time was it again? He checked. 0500. Whoever it was better have a damn good reason to be bothering him so early.

Ratchet went to pull himself away from Wheeljack, but the engineer tightened his grip.

"'Jack, let me go. I'll be back in a few minutes," Ratchet said.

More muttering. This time something half-way understandable in Cybertronian as Wheeljack let him go. Ratchet got up, finally able to answer the door, surprised to see Red Alert. He stepped outside.

"What's the matter?" Ratchet asked.

"I've been up all night thinking," Red Alert said. "I need a favor. Please help me convince Prime to let me go back to the Xantium. I can't stay here."

"What? Why not?" Ratchet said.

"The reason is in the med bay," Red Alert said.

"Ultra Magnus? Red, you won't have to work with him if you don't want to," Ratchet said.

"He's the reason I left High Command on Cybertron," she said. "That was why I joined the Wreckers. He is a constant reminder of what I lost."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Ratchet said. "But you're needed here. I thought I've done everything I can to. . ."

"I'm not staying here. And if I can't go back to the Xantium, I'm sure the humans would welcome me and my expertise," she said.

"Red. . ."

"Don't patronize me," she said.

"I'm not," Ratchet said. "Red, go get some rest. We'll talk about this when you're thinking rationally. All right?"

-----

It was hard for Optimus to recharge, scrunched into Rodimus' smaller berth, so he settled for the welcoming presence of sharing warmth and companionship with another being. He was also keeping an audio out for Petra, but the sparkling was recharging, out cold like her sire. Optimus envied Rodimus his ability to fall into recharge seemingly at will.

However, being awake at the moment gave him the chance to think. He did trust Rodimus, had all along. But he was afraid of what the other mech would say when he found out everything he was holding back. He hadn't trusted someone like that in so long, trusted them enough to share his fears with them, show his weakness, bare his spark in more ways than one. Maybe it was time he tried.

-----

Kup walked into the rec room, glad his shift was over. He'd taken the night watch for Prowl, who was still off duty. He planned on getting a bit of energon and heading for his quarters. But he saw Red Alert sitting at a table. Unusual for the femme. He knew he should mind his own business, she'd probably hand him his aft, but someone needed to check on her. So he walked on over.

"Want some company?" Kup asked.

Red Alert sighed. "Stay if you want."

"If you don't mind my sayin', but this ain't like you," Kup said.

"Like you know me so well," she said.

"I know you better than you think," Kup said. "And I know seeing Ultra Magnus has brought everything back to the surface, hasn't it?"

"You don't know what it was like," Red Alert said.

"No, I don't, but I've mourned more lovers and friends in my life. . ." he stopped. "I don't, but Optimus does. He was a twin, his bond with Megatron twice-broken," Kup said. He said too much, he knew that, but it seemed to get her attention.

"You've never been bonded, so you. . ."

"You're lucky to be alive," Kup said. "Ever think about that?

"Luck had nothing to do with it," she said. "The medics wouldn't let me die."

"I don't think the medics had anything to do with it," Kup said. "You're strong, always have been. And do you think you're the only one who lost someone during the war? I lost lovers and friends, too."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean. . ."

"I know," Kup said. "I also know you don't think much of me, but you need to hear what I have to say. You need to know."

"What?" she asked.

"Ultra Magnus didn't order First Aid to take that mission," Kup said. "First Aid _asked_. I tried to talk him out of it, I even pulled a few strings to get him transferred back to Iacon, but he wouldn't have it. And when his unit came up missing, I disobeyed orders and took mine to look for them. I ended up serving a week in detention for insubordination."

"So you're saying I've been wrong all these years?

"No. You have every right to be hurt and angry, but don't you think it's time you let him go?" Kup asked. "There's plenty of mechs here who could. . ." Kup said.

"I will never bond with anyone again," Red Alert said, standing. Kup went after her, grabbed her by the arm.

"That's your decision, but why deny yourself the chance to start a family? You don't have to bonded to. . ."

"Produce a sparkling?" she said.

"You're good with Petra, and I haven't seen you that happy since before you lost First Aid," Kup said.

Red Alert crossed her arms. "I don't need you interfering in my personal life," she said.

"I'm not," Kup said. "But that's just it--you don't have much of a life at all."


	59. Chapter 59

Precipitous

Chapter 59-Calm

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet didn't stop talking when he saw Kup enter the med bay. He acknowledged the other Autobot's presence by meeting his optics a moment before shifting his gaze back to his patient.

"Magnus, as I was saying, the humans have finally managed to locate a vehicle which should provide a suitable alt mode until you can find something better suited to your taste," Ratchet said.

"I'm not vain," Ultra Magnus said. "Whatever is available will be fine."

"Whatever," Ratchet said. "Now, don't go thinking just because you've been let out of the med bay, you're going to be put into the active duty roster right away. You need a few more days to rest, and not to mention get brought up to speed on everything you need to know."

"You're finished?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"Yes," Ratchet said.

Ultra Magnus heaved himself off the berth, walked out, sparing Kup a nod as he went.

"I'll bet you he'll have Optimus sneaking his name onto a duty roster before the day is out," Ratchet said. "And I'll have both their heads for it. Now, what can I do for you, Kup?"

"Have you seen Red Alert today?" Kup said.

"Early this morning. Why?"

"Just wonderin,'" Kup said. "I talked to her earlier. About First Aid, that she needs to. . ."

"She actually listened to you?" Ratchet said.

"I think I got through," Kup said. "Look, don't tell her I stopped by to talk to you. I just want you to go check on her. I got her back to her quarters, stayed with her a while. She asked me to stay, so I did. I left when she finally fell into recharge."

"I will," Ratchet said.

"Thanks," Kup said, leaving the med bay.

-----

Hot Rod was spending his mid-day break on the beach, alone. He needed a little time to clear his head, to think about something besides his duties and everything else. Time alone was getting harder and harder to find, with the addition of Petra to his life and his duties. Time with Optimus, on the other hand, seemed more and more available all the time, especially when Petra was involved.

Optimus. Why couldn't he just come clean with whatever he needed to say? Couldn't be that bad, Hot Rod thought, but what could have Optimus Prime shaken so much he was afraid it would damage his trust in the other Autobot? Damn him, anyway. He was always so guarded when it came to himself. Hot Rod couldn't blame him. Being Prime was indeed a lonely job, but it didn't have to be that way. He still had his friends and now an offspring to care for. And a damn stubborn Prime who just would not open up and let him in.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an engine and a slamming door, a quick exchange of profanity from a familiar voice. Hot Rod grinned, turned around as he heard slow footsteps approaching.

"I hope you didn't sneak out of your infirmary," he said, earning a glare from the human staring up at him. "And cursing. So unprofessional."

Graham scowled, gingerly lowering himself down to the sand.

"Damn bucket of bolts hit every pot hole and bump on the way here," he said. "I think Ironhide needs his suspension adjusted."

"He could have let you walk," Hot Rod said. "And you haven't answered my question about sneaking out."

"I didn't sneak out," Graham said. "I was let out. I also see Ultra Magnus was released by Ratchet. He was showing off his new form. The only thing we had that was big enough for him to scan was a Mastiff 2."

"He won't complain," Hot Rod said.

"How well do you know him?" Graham asked. "What's he like?"

"Everything I'm not," Hot Rod said. "And I know him fairly well. I was a unit commander directly under his command before I joined the Wreckers. I have Kup and Ultra Magnus to thank for helping make me into someone I was proud to be. Sometimes I might not like Ultra Magnus very much, but I respect him. He's honest and fair."

"So not crazy like you described on the plane when we retrieved him," Graham said.

"He was at the time," Hot Rod said.

"That was confused, not crazy," Graham said.

Hot Rod shrugged. "He's not anymore," he said.

"So what are you doing out here? Avoiding him or responsibility?"

It was Hot Rod's turn to glare, but he answered honestly. "A little of both," he said.

"You can't avoid him forever," Graham said. "Come on. You can give me a ride back, and tell me what I've missed the past few days."

-----

The rec room was becoming a favorite spot of Optimus'. Just after what the humans called "lunch" and it was empty and quiet. Perfect for catching up on reports and a nap for Petra. Except his quiet was not going to last. Ultra Magnus walked into the room, taking a look around. He walked over and sat down at Optimus' table, optics locking on Petra.

"You always have her with you," Ultra Magnus said. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were her other creator."

"How do you know I'm not?" Optimus asked.

"Because you know better than to get involved with a subordinate," Magnus said.

"Much has changed, Magnus," Optimus said, frowning.

"I. . .I meant no offense, if you are. . ." Magnus said. "But you could do much worse than Hot Rod. He was a fine unit commander, and it looks like he's done well for himself here."

"You could say that," Optimus said.

"What do you mean?" Magnus said. "And if you don't mind if I ask, what are you doing off in the middle of the day? Taking some time off?"

"Magnus, do you want to hear all of the details now or later?" Optimus said. "I have time, and you need briefed on everything that has happened since our arrival on this world. I promised Rodimus I would talk with you so. . ."

"That name again--Rodimus," Magnus said. "What. . ."

"Magnus, Hot Rod is called Rodimus now because like me, he his a Prime," Optimus said. He watched Magnus, whose only reaction was a slight widening of his optics.

"A Prime, but how. . ." Magnus said. "This is Hot Rod we're talking about. He's been handed the sacred duty of our people, sharing it with you. Hot Rod, who has a blatant disregard for authority,"

"I'd call it a rebellious streak," Optimus said.

"Lazy, self-serving, arrogant, a rogue element, an anomaly, dangerous," Magnus said.

"Hard-working, self-sacrificing, cocky, trustworthy, and sometimes volatile," Optimus countered. "Someone I would trust with my life, and I have trusted these past weeks to carry out the duties I cannot at the moment."

"Any reason why?" Magnus said, optics straying once again to Petra.

"I wish Petra were the reason," Optimus said. "But she is not mine. Magnus, the reason why I'm sitting here in the middle of the afternoon sparkling sitting is because I've been pulled from active duty, by Ratchet, because I'm recovering from injuries sustained in battle."

"And you just let him do it?" Magnus said.

"I didn't let Ratchet do anything," Optimus said. "He made the decision on his own, because he felt it necessary. I didn't agree at first, but now. . ."

"You're finding Ratchet was right?"

"Possibly," Optimus said.

"Want me to go tell him that?" Magnus said, offering his friend a rare smile.

"Say a word to Ratchet and I'll have you assigned to the humans as a diplomat," Optimus said, also smiling. "Come, my friend, we have much to discuss."

-----

Jazz took a look around the rec room, smiling at what he saw--a room full of happy beings, both human and Autobot. But in the back of his processor, he couldn't shake the feeling it was the calm before the storm. He banished it for the moment, choosing instead to concentrate on the good vibes in the room. Even Optimus Prime was present, sitting at a table with Prowl, Ultra Magnus and Ironhide. No doubt reminiscing about old times, Jazz hoped. If they were talking about work, Ratchet would kill them all, but the medic was similarly occupied at his own table with Wheeljack, Perceptor and Kup. Who knew what that bunch was talking about.

At his own table, Sideswipe and Bluestreak were swapping stories with Sunstreaker interjecting his own occasional comments, every now and then sparing Arcee or one of his twins a glance. Seemed like fatherhood suited Sunny. Also looked like Arcee was happy. And a table over, even big, bad-assed Springer was holding a sparkling. He had Petra in the crook of one arm, arguing with Rodimus. Jazz grinned at that sight, and Sideswipe and Springer caught him staring.

Springer glowered, but turned his attention back to Rodimus.

"No, haven't told Kup yet about 'Hide and me," Springer said. "So butt out. When are you finally going to pin Prime to a wall and have at it?"

Hot Rod wanted to punch Springer, but held back because the aft-head was holding his sparkling, and it wouldn't be befitting a Prime to smack someone around in public, even if they were so deserving.

"Would you shut up?" Hot Rod hissed. "Everyone can hear. . ."

"Rodi, quit denying your feelings and do something about it," Springer said. "I don't care who hears me. I think Prime cares for you, too, and it's obvious he cares about Petra, so what are you waiting for?"

"I. . ."

"See? You can't come up with a valid reason besides sheer stupidity and stubbornness," Springer said. "I knew you were dense, but this. . ."

"I've told you it's complicated," Hot Rod said.

"Rodi, it's simple," Springer said. "You want Prime, he wants you. Do something about it."

"I am not having this conversation with you," Hot Rod said.

"Already over," Springer said, standing. "Here, take your kid back."

Unsettled by the abrupt change, Petra started to warble. Hot Rod took her back, trying to quiet the upset sparkling, but half-distracted by Springer's sudden approach to Prime's table.

Springer turned around and grinned when he felt his friend's optics boring into him. He unsubspaced the stasis cuffs he had yet to return to Rodi (again) and handed them to Optimus.

"I think you need to instruct Rodi in their proper use," Springer said. He walked away, leaving Optimus Prime with three sets of curious optics staring at him questioningly.

:That's what you get for being a jackass: Springer commed Hot Rod.


	60. Chapter 60

Precipitous

Chapter 60-Disclosure

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

As Springer retreated from their table, Prowl and Ironhide shared a glance, then turned their attention to Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus, who was looking at their leader, confused.

"What was that all about?" Ultra Magnus asked. "Proper use of stasis cuffs? All Autobot recruits learn that during their first two weeks of training. . ."

Prowl, who was taking a sip of high grade, suddenly found himself choking when the absurdity of the situation hit him. Ironhide kept a straight face as he pounded the second in command on the back.

If Optimus Prime were human, he knew his face would be scarlet from embarrassment.

"Springer was only jesting," Optimus said, quickly subspacing the stasis cuffs, rising from the table and making for the exit.

"My aft," Prowl wheezed, wiping energon from his mouth.

"Magnus, if somebody has to explain it. . ." Ironhide said. "Think real hard. Then again, you probably don't have much experience or imagination when it comes to such things."

Magnus' optics widened as he did think about it. He glared at Ironhide.

"Deviant," he muttered.

"You're just jealous," Ironhide said. "Now you're here, I'm sure Perceptor would like to continue your relationship, that is if you can pry him away from the plans for the new lab. . ."

Magnus frowned. "Ironhide. . ."

"Fine. I'll stop. You're no fun," Ironhide said. "Well, only with a few cubes of high grade in you. And you, too, Prowl."

Two sets of annoyed optics turned on the weapons specialist.

"Yeah, well, good night," Ironhide said. "See you two in the morning."

"He hasn't changed one bit," Magnus said once Ironhide was gone.

"Not much," Prowl said.

"Not at all," Ultra Magnus said.

"We've all changed, Magnus," Prowl said. "Pay Ironhide no mind. He was only teasing."

"I know," Magnus said. "But we're still at war, and. . ."

"Every minute of every day cannot be dedicated to fighting and strategy and worry," Prowl said. "That is a lesson I recently learned the hard way, as the humans say. Our existence is a precious thing, Magnus, and it's best we find a way to appreciate and treasure the good moments. Even the terrible ones. Without it, I wouldn't have what I have now."

"And what is that?" Magnus asked.

"Something I was too blind to see before," Prowl answered, glancing over at Prowl and Sideswipe. Feeling optics on him, both looked back.

Witnessing the exchange, Magnus raised an optic ridge in question.

"Which one?" he asked.

"I am involved with both Jazz and Sideswipe," Prowl said.

"A trine?" Magnus said. "And you're happy?"

"Yes," Prowl said.

"Optimus was right," Magnus said. "Much has changed."

-----

0200 and Optimus Prime found himself doing laps around the Autobot living quarters with an armful of wide awake sparkling. He looked down at Petra, and found her bright blue optics staring back at his own.

"Brightspark, aren't you just the least bit tired?" Optimus asked, using Rodimus' nickname for the sparkling.

She chirped happily back, snuggling against him.

"Didn't think so," Optimus said. "You've every bit as stubborn as your sire. Not that I'm complaining about you or him, but, it is one of his more dominant traits. So is his recklessness, but don't get me wrong, Petra, he is a good mech, and he's proven me wrong from the start. You could do much worse for a sire than Rodimus."

"Is that a compliment?"

Optimus' head snapped around.

"Rodimus? What are you doing up? I thought I told you I would try and. . . "

"I woke up and you two were gone, so I decided to come look for you. Anything wrong with that?"

"No," Optimus said.

"Look, because neither you nor I can get Petra into recharge, Red Alert said she would try. She hasn't spent much time with her in the last few days, so it can't hurt can it? Besides, it'll give you and I a chance to talk."

"In the middle of the night?" Optimus said.

"Got any better ideas?" Hot Rod said. "You've said several times we need to talk, so we're going to talk. So c'mon. We're going to the beach."

Hot Rod took Petra from the other Autobot. "Meet you out there in 15 minutes," he said.

Actually turned out to be 20, but Hot Rod wasn't counting. He was sitting by Optimus Prime on the sand, watching waves crash on the shore. Stubborn pain in the aft wouldn't say anything so he decided to try and get him talking.

"All this time, and now we have the chance and you sit here like your vocalizer's been turned off?" Hot Rod said.

"Wouldn't you much rather have a demonstration in the proper use of stasis cuffs?" Optimus said. "I think you could benefit from such a lesson."

"Maybe later," Hot Rod said. "Optimus, quit stalling. I'm here, and I'm willing to listen."

Optimus vented air, sighing. He offlined his optics a few seconds. Hot Rod waited patiently.

"Remember that day in the med bay when I said I left out pertinent details regarding my part in the events leading up to and taking place in Egypt?" Optimus said.

"I remember something to that effect," Hot Rod said. "Go on."

"It was before the arrival of the Fallen. . .I was trying to protect Sam, to keep him and the knowledge of the Allspark he carried within him from falling into Decepticon hands," Optimus said. "Alone, I faced Megatron, Starscream and Grindor. I managed to keep them at bay, destroying Grindor and badly injuring Starscream but. . .Megatron. . .my own brother, ended my life."

Optimus stopped, searching Hot Rod's face for a reaction, but for once, his expression was unreadable.

"You died," Hot Rod said. "And that night on the Xantium, when you said the Matrix was used on the battlefield once. . .it was used on you, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Optimus said.


	61. Chapter 61

Precipitous

Chapter 61-Flare

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Conflicting emotions welled up inside Hot Rod, ranging from the sudden desire to purge to anger and fear. Fear that if things had gone differently, he would not be sitting beside Optimus Prime, having such a strange and difficult conversation. Anger at the other Autobot over not telling him before now. Details? Optimus considered such an important matter a detail?

He'd _died_.

Hardly a detail.

But Hot Rod stayed calm, tried anyway. He could lose it later. Much later.

"Go on," he said.

"When I came back, I only remembered those last few moments as I felt my spark fading, dying. . .then finding myself in a strange place, in the middle of a battle, waking to face my treacherous brother and the Fallen. . .I was consumed by anger and revenge. It was all I wanted, and I showed no mercy.

The Fallen, one of the first Primes, brother to our forefathers, died by my hand. But retribution is a worthless action. I know that now. But how could I not want that, for all that's been lost because of one being's greed and madness? Our people, our history, our homeworld, all destroyed because of the Fallen and my own brother. . ."

Hot Rod scooted closer to the other mech, put his arms around Optimus.

"It's all right," Hot Rod said. "It's over. Let go, Optimus."

He wrapped his own arms around the other Prime, and Hot Rod held him, felt Optimus start to shake. And he felt the Matrix flare inside him, felt its warmth, spreading through his body to Optimus', which seemed to help calm the Autobot leader. Hot Rod also sensed a tenuous connection between them, their sparks, their minds, through the relic, and he seized upon it, suddenly found himself not on the beach at night, with Optimus, but in broad daylight, in a forest, chest heaving from his exertions, frantic. . .then the spear piercing his armor from front to back, going through his spark, trying to free himself. Fire. . .burning, falling, calling out for Sam. . .blackness.

Waking under a clear blue sky, Ratchet calling for Jolt, his joy at flight, the anger and horror of the Fallen's actions. . .the battle with Megatron and the Fallen. . .how cold he felt after it was over. . .then Hot Rod was back in his own body, pushing away from Optimus, who was giving him a strange look.

"What the hell just happened?" Hot Rod asked, unconsciously running his hand over his own chest, unsure of what he'd just experienced.

"The Matrix. . .it allowed me to show you everything that happened," Optimus said.

"Primus. . ." Hot Rod muttered. "Optimus. . .I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, I didn't know, couldn't understand what you were dealing with all this time. . ."

"I should have told you long before now," Optimus said. "I did not trust myself, didn't trust anyone enough to talk about it. I've never told anyone about it, what I felt, the others were there, but you're the first I've shared any of this with. I was afraid to tell anyone, afraid to show any weakness, to let anyone in."

"Letting someone get close is not a weakness," Hot Rod said. "It's what separates us Autobots from the Decepticons. Enough, Optimus, about the past, for one night."

He could still sense Optimus through their mutual connection with the Matrix, distant, but still there. Full of doubt and fearful of rejection. So unlike what Hot Rod knew Optimus to be. Mustering up some of his bravado, Hot Rod kissed Optimus, concentrating on that, and just how much he did not care about the past, future, present, duty or anything else at the moment.

And Optimus broke it off. Just like that, the connection between them was gone. Hot Rod sat back down on the sand, Optimus joining him.

"We should head back," Optimus said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "Or we could stay here. Only a few hours 'til sunup."

"After all that's happened, you're still one very persistent, single-minded mech, you know that?" Optimus asked.

"Can't help it," Hot Rod said, slipping an arm around Optimus. "Especially when it's someone I care about so much."

He laid down, smiled when Optimus spooned up against him, and they both let the sound of the ocean lull them into recharge.


	62. Chapter 62

Precipitous

Chapter 62-Actualization

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

A quiet morning, Jazz mused. Not good. It meant either someone was going to pull some stupid or crazy antics on base, or something big was going down. Something big of the Decepticon kind. The third in command knew there was a very real possibility it could be the first option, and he was going to be directly involved. Soon. Prowler kept calling it "Sideswipe's project." He wouldn't say why, so Jazz just went along. So did Sideswipe, but they all three knew what it entailed. So much the better for now. Because when Ratchet found out, there would be hell to pay.

Jazz knew Prowl wanted to have one more talk with Perceptor, then they'd make their decision. Either way, it was none of Ratchet's business, not until it was anything medical. Then Jazz would listen to his ranting and complaints because the medic would have a reason. But enough speculation. He had a job to do.

-----

The name was there, on the fatality list, just like Optimus said it would be. Hot Rod knew he had duties to attend to, but they could wait just a little longer. Optimus had died; he'd experienced those last few moments himself. He was still unsettled by the ordeal and the knowledge of what had happened to the other Prime. He'd work through it. He understood that. It would take time, just as would trying to get Optimus to realize just how much he wanted a relationship. No denying that now. The other Autobot did care, had shown that by letting his guard down enough to trust him with the burden he'd carried for months.

No going back, Hot Rod reminded himself. Only moving forward.

He was about to set aside the data pad with the fatality list when Springer entered the office. He stopped when he saw the look on Hot Rod's face.

"What's got you so spooked?" Springer said. "Look, Prime just came by and talked to 'Hide, who said I better come see you. . ."

"Take a look at this," Hot Rod said, handing him the data pad. Springer scrolled down the list, head snapping up in disbelief.

"What the. . ." Springer said. "Is this a joke?"

"No joke," Hot Rod said. "That's the fatality list from the NEST missions in North America and Egypt during the fight against the Fallen from almost a year ago. Up until this morning, that and the unsanitized versions of the mission reports took an omega-level security clearance to access, and then you had to know where to find them in the memory core of the Ark and the Xantium."

"Optimus Prime died," Springer said. "But he's here now, so. . .that stunt Ratchet pulled with Prowl to bring him back wasn't the first time, was it?"

"No," Hot Rod said.

"And when did you find all this out?"

"Last night," Hot Rod said.

"No wonder 'Hide told me I needed to come see you," Springer said. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," Hot Rod said. "A little freaked, but I'll be all right."

"Good," Springer said. "I hope this means you two are ready to start a real relationship. I mean that."

"So do I, Spring, so do I."

-----

Ultra Magnus had the run of the base. Still not assigned any duties until Ratchet said he was healthy enough, Magnus decided to get a better look at his new home. At the moment, that included stopping by the lab to see Perceptor. Not because of what Ironhide suggested several days before, but because he hadn't seen him much since his arrival.

Magnus was gratified by the expression on the scientist's face when he saw him, even happier when he dropped what he was doing, enveloping the big mech in a welcoming hug.

"Magnus, I was wondering if you were going to stop by," Perceptor said, shoving over a seat for the other Autobot.

"I was working my way up to it," Magnus said. "I don't really have much to do until I'm on the duty roster, so here I am."

"It's good to see you Magnus," Perceptor said.

"And I'm happy to see you're well," Magnus said. "Conducting any interesting new research?"

Perceptor smiled, optics lighting up with enthusiasm as he launched into a lecture about the work he was doing regarding global warming. Same old Percy, Magnus thought.

-----

Ratchet tried not to panic when Prowl commed him in the middle of the night to meet him in the med bay. The medic had several possible reasons why going through his head, but nothing prepared him for the reality. Complications from his resurrection, Ratchet was ready for. A quick scan revealed nothing amiss, but a deep scan answered the medic's questions. Ratchet was torn between hugging the second in command and smacking him in the head with a wrench. Hard. But the look on Prowl's face when he showed him a holographic image of what the scan revealed kept him from smacking the other Autobot. Prowl's rapt attention focused on the image of the tiny spark connected to his own made Ratchet reconsider. That also begged another thought, one the medic was afraid to ask.

"Please tell me it belongs to Jazz," Ratchet said. "Congratulations, by the way, but this is the last thing you should be doing right now, considering what your body's been through. . ."

"This is exactly what I should be doing," Prowl countered. "And Jazz was not the only individual with whom I engaged reproductive protocols tonight."

"What?" Ratchet asked. "That's impossible."

"This new spark was produced by Jazz, Sideswipe and I. Implausible, not impossible," Prowl said.

"It's been done in a lab, not under actual conditions," Ratchet said. "Such methods were used in the creation of the gestalt teams, but. . ."

"Utilizing a hardline connection, and myself as the focus, our combined code and sparks produced this new individual," Prowl said. "Anything else you require?"

"No," Ratchet said. "Not at the moment. Go get some rest. I mean that. Come see me first thing in the morning."

-----

Getting dragged from his berth again in the middle of the night. Not fun, Optimus Prime thought. Good thing Rodimus was on duty in ops and Petra was with Red Alert, giving him a night alone. He sighed. He was growing accustomed to having the two in his quarters. It felt. . .wrong to not have them there, but right now, Ratchet wanted him. For what, he could not imagine. He walked down the corridor to the med bay, finding Ratchet pacing and muttering.

". . .I swear I'm going to offline them all. . .of all the stupid, slagging, damn things to do. . ."

"Who did what now?" Optimus asked, arms crossed.

"Sit down and I'll explain," Ratchet said.

Optimus sat down on the edge of a berth, waited for Ratchet to take his own seat.

"Prowl was in here about 15 minutes ago," Ratchet said. "He's carrying."

The medic let the news sink in, wasn't surprised when Optimus smiled.

"This is good news," he said.

"Maybe," Ratchet said. "The spark is stable. For now."

"What do you mean?" Optimus asked.

"It's the product of three sparks, it could split and become unstable," Ratchet said. "It's not like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, or Arcee's twins. They resulted from one spark splitting into two. It's a rare occurrence, but it's natural."

"Why would it become unstable if it splits?" Optimus asked.

"It might not be strong enough to hold its cohesion," Ratchet said. "I've seen this before, conducted in medical and scientific research when the science academy started its work in developing gestalt technology. I wasn't directly involved, but I kept up with the research through scientific journals and colleagues working on the project."

"Did you tell Prowl this?"

"Not yet," Ratchet said.

"Maybe everything will work out fine," Optimus said.

Ratchet snorted. "You always were a Pollyanna, as the humans say."

-----


	63. Chapter 63

Precipitous

Chapter 63-Caveat

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet wasn't the pacing type. With the med bay in (mostly) perfect order, he sat in his office, fuming about the stubborn, stupid mechs relegated to his care. Currently waiting for one of those Autobots to show, Ratchet wondered if Prowl's definition of "first thing in the morning" matched his. Not quite 0800 yet, but the medic wanted to see Prowl as soon as possible. Short of going to his quarters and dragging him from his berth, that wasn't possible. Almost on cue, Prowl entered the med bay. Ratchet stood, walked out to join him.

"Berth. Now," Ratchet said. He watched as Prowl laid down. "I'm going to run a few scans, then we need to have a serious discussion regarding your condition and its possible outcomes."

"Good morning to you too, Ratchet," Prowl said.

Ratchet didn't answer, already involved in his work. Prowl vented air, sighing, letting the medic proceed, lying still while Ratchet worked. Exactly 15 minutes later, Ratchet sat down on a stool by the berth.

"You can sit up now," the medic said. Prowl did as he was told.

"How is the spark?" Prowl asked.

"Fine, for now," Ratchet said. "However, Prowl. . ."

"There is nothing wrong with me, is there?" Prowl said.

"You're operating well within acceptable parameters, considering you were offline only a few weeks ago," Ratchet said. "Your spark is strong, but it and your body still need time to recuperate."

"So there is no reason why I shouldn't be carrying right now," Prowl said.

"Would you like me to outline the medical reasons why you shouldn't?" Ratchet said.

Prowl ignored that. "Is there anything. . .amiss with the new spark I carry?" he asked.

Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nose a second. "Not at the moment," he said.

"You believe there could be complications?" Prowl asked, surprisingly calm.

"Potentially," Ratchet said. "Prowl, there is no easy way to say this. . .considering the nature of the new spark, and the method of its creation, if it splits once, it could survive. If not, it will be reabsorbed into your own body. I want you to be prepared for that possibility."

"There is every possibility it won't," Prowl said.

"Have you calculated the odds?" Ratchet said.

"This is one time I don't want to think about the odds," Prowl said.

"Most illogical, coming from you," Ratchet said.

Prowl shrugged. "I'm not exactly in the most logical of situations, am I?"

"Hardly," Ratchet said. "Considering your choice of mates."

"Are we finished then?" Prowl asked, rising. "I have a briefing with Ultra Magnus this morning."

Ratchet stood, blocking Prowl's path. "Sit back down. Now." Prowl did as he was told. "No briefing. "No stress, no excitement for 24 to 48 hours," Ratchet said. "I want you to rest. I am going to do everything I can to ensure this sparkling has a fighting chance, and if that means welding your aft to a berth, I'll do it."

"Why 48 hours?" Prowl said.

"New sparks, if they're going to split, usually do so within the first day or two after their inception," Ratchet said. "If it makes it past these first few days, it stands a chance. If so, we'll go from there. But for now, nothing even resembling duty. Besides, I thought I gave you orders about not working anyway? Don't worry about your briefing with Magnus. I'll take care of it. Right now, my concern is you and your sparkling," Ratchet said, placing his hands on Prowl's shoulders.

"Thank you, Ratchet," Prowl said.

"One thing--next time you decide to carry, I don't care if Sideswipe knocks up both you and Jazz with twins," Ratchet said.

A hint of a smile played at the corner of Prowl's lips.

"I'm going to tell him you said that," he said.

"Fine," Ratchet said. "Now get out of here. Remember, rest, and nothing else."

Prowl nodded, walking away. Ratchet felt a huge processor ache coming on. Pushing it aside, he commed Optimus Prime, and he also wanted to talk with Jazz and Sideswipe.

-----

Petra squirmed, getting restless. Optimus set down his data pad, made the sparkling more comfortable, talking to her in Cybertronian, smiling when she accepted the energon line he offered.

"There, that's better, isn't it, brightspark?" the Autobot leader murmured, using Rodimus' endearment for the sparkling.

Ultra Magnus raised an optic ridge as he entered the room. He took his own seat, picking up his own data pad.

"Sparkling sitting during a briefing," Magnus said. "Very unprofessional behavior for a Prime. And I thought Prowl was supposed to conduct this meeting, not you."

Optimus settled his best "shut-up-I'm-Prime-and-you're-not" gaze on Ultra Magnus, which didn't seem to phase the other Autobot.

"Prowl is unavailable at the moment and Petra would be with Red Alert, except Wheeljack blew off his hand in the lab, and wouldn't let a medic touch him until he made sure it wouldn't be Ratchet," Optimus said. "And Rodimus is busy running drills, so he can't very well be watching his daughter at the moment, can he? As soon as you're done here, you're going to go get that aft of yours worked off by Ironhide."

"Are you insinuating something about my aft?" Magnus asked.

"You've been sitting on it far too long," Optimus said.

"Will you be joining me?" Magnus said.

"If I do and Ratchet finds out, he'll kill me," Optimus said.

"Since when are you afraid of a mere medic?"

"Since that mere medic is in control of when I return to active duty," Optimus said. "Now shut up, or we're never going to finish this."

Two hours later, Petra was taking a nap, Magnus had many more questions needing answers and Optimus wanted nothing more than to join Magnus while running drills, if he got the chance to go up against him. At least the aft head gained a quick understanding of NEST's command structure and operating protocols. However, his own part in the command structure, at least for the foreseeable future, did not sit well with Magnus.

"It's only until Prowl is back on active duty, however long that takes," Optimus said. "I've already talked it over with Jazz and Kup, and they agree, you're best suited to take over Prowl's duties."

"What about when you return to active duty? What about Rodimus?"

"That is not what we're discussing right now," Optimus said. "You'll help with the day to day operations, so quit complaining, not leadership of any of the field units. Although you and I both know you're perfectly capable of taking over if you had to, except you won't. Magnus, after all this time, I still don't know why you doubt your own abilities. . ."

"I'm happy being a soldier," Magnus said.

"You could be so much more," Optimus said. "If fate had turned out differently, you would be in charge of the Autobots, not I."

"You are Prime," Magnus said. "I am not."

"You're worthy of the title, Magnus," Optimus said. "Never forget that."

Magnus said nothing, deciding to change the subject.

"Just why is Prowl removed from duty, anyway?"

"This morning, Ratchet found out Prowl is carrying, and considering there are extenuating circumstances regarding his condition, it is for the best," Optimus said. "You know Prowl has been on restricted duty. . ."

"Yes," Magnus said. "Much like yourself."

"There is a reason why," Optimus said. "One I've only recently been able to discuss myself, so. . .a few weeks ago, Prowl was on a combat mission, co-commander with Maj. Lennox. They faced one of the Decepticon combiners in battle, and Prowl was gravely wounded trying to buy the team the time they needed for a retreat. Prowl was transported to the Xantium for medical treatment, but. . ."

"But what?"

"You know of the Matrix of Leadership, correct?" Optimus asked. "How we came to be in its possession?"

"I know Hot Rod has the artifact," Magnus said. "But what does that. . ."

"Prowl died from his injuries," Optimus said. "The Matrix was used to revive him, which is. . ."

"He _died_?"

"Yes," Optimus said. "Which is why Ratchet is concerned about him, and his sparkling. But that's not all, Magnus. Because of my own. . .experience with the Matrix and my accumulation of injuries over the past year, Ratchet pulled me from active duty."

Reeling from Optimus' revelation regarding the Matrix, Magnus was still able to connect the dots, as the humans said.

"You were revived in the same manner at some point, weren't you?" he asked.

"Yes, but that's not. . ."

"Yes, it is important," Magnus said. "But we'll talk about that later. Preferably after I've kicked your aft and some high grade."


	64. Chapter 64

Precipitous

Chapter 64-Decisions

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The chance to put both Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus through drills at the same time warmed Ironhide's spark in ways he never imagined. It brought out his devious side, more than usual. The time for sanctioned, official military exercises was over. Time to improvise, give the two big guns the chance to think on the run. Literally. Evasion was the name of the game. Optimus was doing a good job, but Magnus was a little slow. Ironhide grinned as he singed the big mech's backside with a well-placed shot.

:Getting slow in your old age, Magnus?: Ironhide commed.

:I'll show you old, slagger:

:Language, Magnus? Since when do you use profanity?: Ironhide asked.

:Since I landed on this organic mudball with you trying to shoot off my aft:

:You need to remember how to _move_: Ironhide said, again singeing Magnus with a barrage of fire.

Magnus and Optimus answered with their own weapons, firing on the weapons specialist, who wasn't fast enough to get out of the way.

As the smoke cleared, Optimus subspaced his weapons, walking over to Magnus, who was helping Ironhide up.

"I think we won," Optimus said.

"You got lucky," Ironhide said.

"Sure," Magnus said. "You're angry because you have to provide the high grade."

"Stuff it," Ironhide said gruffly, but the mirth in his optics belied his emotions. "Come on if you're going to enjoy *my* high grade."

-----

Prowl listened to Bluestreak talk. Blue was on his seventh subject of the hour. The younger mech could talk. Prowl had missed it, and Bluestreak. Blue noticed the look on the tactician's face, stopped talking.

"What is it?" Blue asked.

"Nothing," Prowl said.

"You're sad, or thinking too hard," Blue said. "I know that look."

"All right then--have I told you how much I missed you?" Prowl said.

"Only once, I think, but it's good to hear again," Blue said. "But I'm here, so you don't have to think about me not being around anymore because I've been here for weeks now, and you've got other things to think about."

"I do, but don't you have anything else you could be doing? I'm supposed to be resting, and I don't need a baby-sitter," Prowl said.

"You'll have your hands on a data pad the instant I'm out the door," Blue said. "Besides, it's only until Sideswipe gets off duty in ops, which will be in another hour. And if you're not working, you'll be worrying if you're alone. Which is why I'm here."

"Baby-sitting," Prowl said.

Blue grinned back. "Call it what you want," he said.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. . ."

"Slag off, Prowlie," Blue said. "I want to be here. There is a difference, so let's talk about something else. All it is anymore is sparklings, sparklings, sparklings around here. I know you're not supposed to get uh, upset, or anything the next couple of days, but wanna hear about Ironhide's training session with Prime and Ultra Magnus?"

-----

Hot Rod hit the chime to Kup's quarters, feeling foolish. He really needed to talk to someone, and Kup fit the bill. He only hoped the ancient mech wouldn't mind Petra being along for the ride. At the moment, the sparkling was staring up at her sire, chirping at him, the tone almost questioning.

"Just gonna talk to Kup a few minutes, brightspark, then it's back to our quarters. Or maybe we'll stop by and see Optimus. Would you like that?" Hot Rod said. He didn't get a chance to note Petra's response as the door to Kup's quarters opened.

"Hey Kup," Hot Rod said, walking past the old Autobot. He went over to Kup's berth, sitting down.

"What do you need, lad?" Kup said. "And want me to take Petra? I'd be more than glad to hold the little one for you, since I haven't seen her in several days."

"Be my guest," Hot Rod said, handing Petra over. Kup took her, sat down across from Hot Rod.

"Now, what is it?" Kup asked.

"I finally had that talk with Optimus," Hot Rod said. "The one he's been wanting to have for a long time."

Kup locked optics with Hot Rod. "Really," he said. "And what did he have to say?"

"More than I wanted to hear, but I listened to everything he had to say," Hot Rod said. "If it weren't for what happened with Prowl, seeing that, I never would have believed it. . ."

"So you know what happened now, all of it, right? His dying and everything?" Kup said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said, frowning. "But how did you know?"

"Hacked the files on the Xantium not long after I got here," Kup said. "But that doesn't matter. I imagine what Prime had to say upset you, correct?"

"Kup, Optimus _died_," Hot Rod said. "No wonder he's been wound so tight, and I wasn't making things any easier for him. . ."

"Lad. . ." Kup said. "None of what's happened been easy for either of you and leave it at that, all right?"

"That's all you have to say about it?" Hot Rod said.

"What's left to say?" Kup said. "I know you two still have your differences, and you'll have to work through that, but if you really want to have a relationship with Optimus, lad, that's a chance you're going to have to take. Make a stand, lad. It's that simple."

-----

Optimus Prime felt more relaxed than he had in a very long time. The high grade helped, as did assisting Ultra Magnus kick Ironhide's aft. It felt good to fight alongside his old friend once again, even if it was only against Ironhide. It also got him thinking maybe another talk, or just time alone with Rodimus was in order. The Autobot leader suddenly found himself jolted back to reality by a smack on the back of his helm.

"What're you smiling about?" Ironhide asked.

"How good it felt to kick your devious aft," Optimus said. "Among other things."

"I hope you enjoyed it, because next time, you two won't be so lucky," Ironhide said.

"I'll tell Ratchet that," Magnus said. "It's been an enjoyable day, my friends, but I have duties to assume in the morning."

"Yeah, have fun with that," Ironhide said, watching Magnus stand. The big mech was a little wobbly.

Optimus exchanged a glance with the weapons specialist as they watched him walk away. "He's never been able to hold his high grade," he said.

"I know," Ironhide said. "A hangover will do him good tomorrow."

"You're evil," Optimus said.

"Speaking of evil, have you let Rodi know about what Magnus' new duties will be?" Ironhide asked. "Just springing it on him is rude."

"I'll tell him tomorrow," Optimus said. "There are other things I'd like to discuss with Rodimus tonight, so I'd better be going."

"Like what?" Ironhide said.

Optimus shrugged, standing.

"Fine, don't tell me," Ironhide said.

"See you in the morning, 'Hide," Optimus said.

"Slagger," Ironhide said, smiling.

-----

Alone with Optimus on the beach. Not a bad place to be, Hot Rod mused, but why, he was still wondering. His talk with Kup hadn't helped, and here he was, just sitting shoulder to shoulder with the other Prime, staring out at the ocean. A beautiful night, with the stars blazing overhead. Quiet. He let himself relax, at least until Optimus spoke.

"I know you're wondering why I asked you to come out here," Optimus said.

"It's crossed my mind," Hot Rod said.

"One would think, considering the interruptions we've had each time we've been. . .close to one another, the reason would be obvious," Optimus said.

Hot Rod's head snapped around, as he stared at the other Autobot, wondering if he really heard what had just been said. "What?" he asked.

"I did not come out here to talk," Optimus said. "But if that's what you wish, then we'll talk."


	65. Chapter 65

Precipitous

Chapter 65-Resolute

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"What the hell. . ." Hot Rod muttered, shifting his gaze back at the ocean, trying to ignore Optimus.

"So you don't want to talk?" Optimus said.

"Not really," Hot Rod said. "I think I'll head back. . ."

"Stay," Optimus said, putting a hand on Hot Rod's shoulder. So far, the night was not going as planned, but he hoped that would change. He would do as the other Autobot wished, but things had been building to a head between them for so long, it was time to do something about it. Or not. The decision was Rodimus' to make. The ball was in his court, as the humans said. But that didn't mean he couldn't make his intentions known. He hadn't done this in so long, not since Elita-1, and that relationship had burned out quickly. Optimus knew he had a chance to build a meaningful relationship with the other Prime, but someone had to take the first step.

Optimus moved his hand from Hot Rod's shoulder to his back, gently running his knuckles up and down the other Autobot's back struts. Hot Rod didn't move away, which further emboldened Optimus. He moved, getting up on his knees, turning so he was facing the other Prime. The Autobot leader took the other mech's face in his hands, meeting his optics a moment before kissing him, then laid him back on the sand. So far so good, he thought, moving his lips from Hot Rod's own to the brand on his helm, the mark signifying him as Prime. He kissed the mark, moved down, placing a peck on his nose, nipping at his neck, tracing the racing stripes on the armor of the other mechs' chest.

Optimus smiled, hearing Rodimus' engine rev as he touched him, further gratified when he trailed kisses onto his armor above the other Prime's spark, feeling him arch against him.

"I've never done this. . ." Hot Rod muttered.

Optimus didn't stop, now working his way from shoulder to neck.

"Neither have I, out in the open, under the sky, like this. . ." he answered

"Not that," Hot Rod said.

"Been with another mech? That's all right," Optimus said.

"That's not what I meant," Hot Rod said, groaning as Optimus trailed his lips down his neck and back up again. "I've never done _this_."

Optimus broke away, staring down at the other Autobot, confused for a second. Then it hit him.

"You've never interfaced?"

"No," Hot Rod said, turning his head to the side, looking away from Optimus, who reached down, making him meet his optics.

"I hope you're not ashamed of that," Optimus said.

"Just a little embarrassed," Hot Rod said.

"I can help rectify that condition, if you'll let me," Optimus said. "However, if you want me to stop, I will."

"I don't know. . ." Hot Rod said. "I. . ."

"Yes or no will do," Optimus said. "However, I thought you wanted this, wanted me."

"I do," Hot Rod said.

"As I want you," Optimus said, again kissing Hot Rod, bringing the discussion to a close.

Hours later, the two Primes lay tangled together on the beach. Optimus was awake, enjoying the warmth of Rodimus' frame against his own. Almost dawn, the Autobot leader noted, and time to head back. They could wait a while longer, but he knew it was going to be a long day, for many reasons, lack of recharge included. However, that was a good thing, a welcome change. And not that Optimus would admit he was proud of himself, with knocking Rodimus offline with his first overload, and three more to boot, but nobody got knocked offline. Ironhide always gloated about his. . .prowess, but Ironhide could get slagged. Not that he'd gloat. Never. That wasn't the point. He cycled air, trying to clear his head, try and get some recharge before having to head back. Optimus knew they could go back to his quarters and be more comfortable in his berth, but he didn't care, didn't want to move yet. He was happy, truly happy for once, an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time, at least where his own welfare was concerned. He was at the moment, and so was Rodimus. He'd felt that when they'd touched sparks, along with the release of all the pent up frustration, want, need and anger between them.

Content, Optimus settled back against the other Prime, but he felt him stir beside him.

"How can you be awake?" Hot Rod muttered.

"I could ask the same of you," Optimus said.

"I'm awake because you're awake," Hot Rod said. "Quit worrying about whatever it is you're worried about and get some recharge. Or try. I know what'd help you with that worrying, but I'm too tired to even move."

Optimus chuckled. "Haven't had enough, have you?"

"For now," Hot Rod said. "Recharge. Talk later. . .sometimes you talk too much. . ."

Optimus started to say something more, but he felt Rodimus relax against him, already back in recharge. Once again, he envied the other mech his ability to recharge any time, any place. The Autobot leader pressed a kiss to his audio, letting recharge claim him.

-----

Ratchet frowned when he saw Optimus Prime coming in from being outside. It was too early for the morning teleconference, and besides, there was a spring in the Autobot leader's step that wasn't there before and he looked rather proud of himself. Smug, if Ratchet didn't know better. Getting a closer look as he hung his head out the med bay door, the medic noted a new dents and several gouges in the Prime's armor. Not good.

Ratchet stepped completely out of the med bay as Optimus passed by, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him inside, shoving him down on a berth, running a quick scan.

"What in the pit and the nine human hells have you been doing the past 24 hours?" Ratchet said. "Your energon levels are low, so when was the last time you refueled? And how much recharge did you get last night? How'd you get those new dents? Are those burn marks all over you?"

The medic eyeballed the dents and burns, then zeroing in on what looked like paint scuffs across Optimus' chest and other body parts. Red paint. Not bright red like his own, but a dark red and some swatches of black. Only one mech on base bore that paint scheme. Dark red with black racing stripes down his chest. Rodimus.

Ratchet cracked Optimus in the back of the head with a quickly unsusbspaced wrench.

"What was that for?" Optimus asked, rubbing his helm.

"For taking so long coming to your senses," Ratchet said. "I hope you and Rodimus had a nice time last night."

Optimus frowned. "What makes you think. . ."

"You have paint scuffs matching his color scheme on your chest armor," Ratchet said. "Which means only one thing--you finally slagged each other senseless last night, I hope. Maybe I'll get him in here and see blue paint on him, and it will corroborate the evidence before me."

"If we did, it's none of your business," Optimus said.

"Shut up," Ratchet said. "I didn't say it was. Besides, I'm more concerned about the scorch marks. I know you didn't get those from. . ."

"Blame Ironhide and Ultra Magnus for that," Optimus said. "I was forced to take part in a drill and. . ."

"I. Do. Not. Care."

"So take it up with them," Optimus finished.

"Believe me I will," Ratchet said. "Get out of here. Go get some recharge, get that sand cleaned off and some energon. I don't care in which order, but do it, all right?"

"I will," Optimus said.

"Good," Ratchet said, clapping the other Autobot on the shoulder. "I hope it works out between you and Rodimus. You both deserve some happiness."

"Thank you Ratchet," Optimus said, walking away.


	66. Chapter 66

Precipitous

Chapter 66-Accord

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod endured Red Alert's tirade, watching the femme pace. She was keeping the profanity dialed down because he was holding Petra, occasionally sparing his sparkling a glance as they both watched the medic.

"Thanks to you, I'm late, so get out of the way and let me get to the med bay," Red Alert said.

"Look, how many times do I have to tell you I didn't think I was going to be gone as long as I was. . ."

"You were gone all night," Red Alert said. "Not that I care, but next time, at least come pick up Petra on time, and don't even ask if I can take her at all today because Ratchet's taking half the day off to spend with Wheeljack, so I'm in charge of the med bay."

"So. . ."

"Finding daycare is _your_ problem," Red Alert said. "Ask Optimus. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He sure didn't mind leaving his paint all over your frame."

She walked over, pointed at scuffs on Hot Rod's chest armor. He looked down. He had scratches on his armor, along with blue and bright red paint scuffs.

"Glad to see you two finally quit dancing around each other," Red Alert said. "Now get your aft out of here because you're going to be late for duty, too."

She grabbed Hot Rod, dragged him out of her quarters, heading toward the med bay. Sometimes. . .

-----

Graham stood on the ground, staring up at an annoyed Lennox, who was up on the communications platform.

"Where the hell is Rodimus?" Lennox asked.

Graham shrugged, rolling his eyes. It was the first time in ages his friend was late. Protocol was protocol, but sometimes Lennox got a little too tightly wound. So tightly wound right now, in fact, he started the teleconference without Rodimus. As if on cue, Graham heard the sound of a familiar engine (loud, angry and finely tuned) getting closer, followed by the sound of a transformation and hurried footsteps inside the hangar.

"Sorry I was late, but I had to feed Petra and she was fussy, and I had to find somebody to watch her until. . ."

Many pairs of human eyes locked on the young Prime, but most went back to their duties. Lennox frowned, but let it slide. On the screen, Gen. Morshower gave Hot Rod a tolerant smile.

"Capt. Lennox, you were saying?"

-----

Jazz walked into his quarters, carrying Petra. He was off shift, so he'd volunteered to watch the sparkling for a while. Took a weight off Rodimus' shoulders for a while, and Jazz was glad to do it. The little one wasn't a problem, and Primus willing, he'd have one of his own in a couple of months. He wanted to check on Prowl, who was awake now.

"Look who I brought," Jazz said, smiling down at the sparkling, and at Prowl.

"Why do you have Petra?" Prowl asked. "Not that I mind seeing her, but. . ."

"Rodi was late for, well, everything this morning," Jazz said. "And Optimus is gonna be busy this morning explainin' to Rodi that you're off duty until whenever and Ultra Magnus is going to be second in command until you come back."

He sat down by Prowl, handing Petra over to his mate. "Better get used to this now," Jazz said. "At least 'Sides is gettin' experience helpin' out with the twins."

"You're very optimistic about the chances our offspring has for survival," Prowl said.

"Aren't you?"

"I'm being. . .cautious, after everything Ratchet had to say," Prowl said.

"Cautious is one thing, doom and gloom something else," Jazz said. "Me and 'Sides are hopin' for the best, Prowler. That's all we can do."

"I know," Prowl said.

-----

A 30-minute briefing with Hot Rod to inform him of Prowl's condition and his (temporary) replacement by Ultra Magnus was not going well. Kup kept his mouth shut, letting Optimus do most of the talking, or at least try. Hot Rod was giving him a run for his money, though, as the humans said. Whining. Kup hadn't heard whining like this from Hot Rod in a very, very long time.

". . .I'll do anything, seriously. C'mon, don't do this to me. . ."

"Do you have a better idea?" Optimus asked.

"Yeah. I'll go get Ratchet to clear you for duty, then you can take over, and you can work with Magnus, so I don't have to," Hot Rod said. "This will not work."

Optimus raised an optic ridge, arms crossed, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. Rodimus' maturity was out the window.

:I haven't seen him try and get out of anything this bad in a long time: Kup commed.

:It's called insubordination: Optimus said.

Kup grinned.

"Magnus does not want to be in charge," Optimus said. "We reached a compromise. He will serve as your second in command until. . ."

"Make it Hound," Hot Rod said. "Springer. Hell, send Ultra Magnus up to the Xantium. _Anything_."

Kup noticed the look on Optimus' face. The one he had when he was not going to budge on an issue. Hot Rod was being just as stubborn. But there was an undercurrent of something else between the two Primes, Kup could sense it.

"You are Prime," Optimus said. "Get that through your thick processor, Rodimus. You're in charge, and you've done well in the time since you assumed my duties. You should be thankful Magnus is here, and don't look at his assumption of Prowl's duties as an inconvenience for yourself. I know you and Magnus have your differences, but part of being a good leader is learning how to compromise. Use this as yet another learning opportunity."

Hot Rod snorted.

"All right," he said.

Kup's head snapped up, surprised. He glanced at Optimus, met his optics. Optimus smiled back.

"Magnus will be here in a few minutes," Optimus said.

"Great," Hot Rod muttered.

Kup stood. "Gotta go," he said. "I have duty in ops in a few minutes."

"Have fun," Hot Rod said.

Optimus also readied to leave the conference room, but Hot Rod stood, stopping him. A part of him considered that Optimus had used the night before to soften the blow of the news of having to work with Magnus on a daily basis.

Hot Rod was annoyed; he knew Optimus wouldn't do anything like that to him, and touching another's mind tended to show one the truth of them and their intentions. He was also distracted, could still feel the ghost of Optimus' presence in his head and his spark. Was that normal? And did the other Prime feel the same thing? He'd have to ask, but it would wait.

"Ratchet gives you an inch, you take a mile," Hot Rod said.

"I asked Magnus to take over for Prowl because I knew you wouldn't consider it," Optimus said. "And I'm still here for you, you know that. That hasn't changed, and will not."

"I know," Hot Rod said.

Optimus leaned down, touched his helm to Hot Rod's. "Magnus is a good teacher," he said. "He's my friend, and he's never failed me in all the years I've know him. I know he can be. . .difficult sometimes, but he's fair. I know you see him differently, but you're no longer his subordinate, but his equal. Remember that."

"I will," Hot Rod said.

"Good," Optimus said, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Ultra Magnus.

"No," Optimus said, suddenly busying himself with picking up his data pads. "Rodimus, we'll continue this discussion later."

"Sure," Hot Rod said, flashing the other Prime his trademark grin. He was enjoying seeing Optimus flustered. "See you tonight."

Optimus nodded, fleeing the room as quickly as dignity allowed.

Hot Rod sat down, watched as Magnus followed suit.

"Any questions?" Hot Rod asked, hoping to get things over quickly.

"A few," Magnus said. "Foremost, Optimus said he would like me to take over Prowl's day to day duties, but you're in charge. What exactly do you expect of me?"

"Do your job and we'll go from there," Hot Rod said, shrugging. "I also know you'll have no problem with telling me when you think I'm messing up, but just to be fair, if I think you're being a hard-ass, as the humans say, I'll let you know. How's that for expectations?"

"Being in charge has not taught you the gift of tact," Magnus said.

"I know when to keep my mouth shut," Hot Rod said. "Sometimes I just don't want to. Like now, but for Optimus' sake, I'm going to play nice and give this a chance."

Magnus sat silent, regarding the young mech at the end of the table with crossed arms and a raised optic ridge.

"What, nothing to say?" Hot Rod said.

"Not really," Magnus said. "Only contemplating the possibility you've finally realized the potential others, including myself, always saw."

"What?" Hot Rod said.

"Still cocky and brash, but it seems that has been tempered by maturity and responsibility," Magnus said. "As I told Optimus, you've done well. You should be proud of what you've accomplished."

"A lot of what's happened to me hasn't been a welcome change," Hot Rod said. "Nothing's been easy for me since we arrived here."

"The humans say that nothing worth having comes easy," Magnus said. "I believe they are correct in that line of thinking."

Hot Rod stared at the other Autobot a few moments. He sighed. Might as well try and get along, he thought.

"C'mon," he said. "There's a few humans you need to meet if you haven't already, and if we have time this afternoon, I'm going to help you look online for a more suitable alt-mode."


	67. Chapter 67

Precipitous

Chapter 67-Acclamation

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Graham was standing in ops, quietly talking with Hound when he saw Rodimus flanked by an unfamiliar looking Autobot. A big Autobot. Slightly taller than Optimus, more massive. He frowned. What the hell? Then recognition hit as he took a good look at the face. Ultra Magnus. He had obviously found a more suitable form, although how and where, Graham did not want to know. He had to admit though, the big mech's new form was impressive, more so than the bland tan Mastiff 2. "Striking" was the word he'd use considering the looks Ultra Magnus was getting from the other bots in the room. Gleaming white and blue armor with chrome accents covering black and silver protoform beneath.

"Don't ask," Hot Rod said, as he passed his human friend. "Just do not ask."

Graham frowned. If his friend was telling him not to ask, there was probably going to be trouble soon. He muttered a quick apology to Hound, taking off after the young Prime, who'd managed to separate himself from Magnus.

"Been up to something you shouldn't?" Graham asked.

"Maybe," Hot Rod said.

"Like?"

"Nothing," Hot Rod said, shooting his friend a glance.

"Nothing as in meaning I'm better off not knowing," Graham said.

"For now," Hot Rod said.

"In that case, maybe you can answer another question for me," Graham said. "I received a memo today about Prowl's removal from the duty roster. No explanation was given, but I think we deserve an answer."

"I'm going to tell Morshower tomorrow during the morning teleconference," Hot Rod said. "Lennox should know by then, and it's not like we're planning on keeping the reason away from you."

"Why then?" Graham said.

"Prowl's off duty because he's carrying," Hot Rod said.

Graham blinked, but kept going, trying to keep up with the Autobot. "Who's the other parent?"

"Both Sideswipe and Jazz," Hot Rod said.

"How is that possible?" Graham asked.

"It is apparently, but I don't know the specifics, and I don't want to," Hot Rod said.

"Prowl's. . .knocked up a like a cheerleader, as Maj. Lennox is so fond of saying," Graham said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "Ratchet's pretty concerned, so that's all that matters to me. Enough about that. C'mon. We need to talk about how we're going to work Ultra Magnus into the training schedule."

-----

Optimus Prime had his feet up on his desk, a data pad in his right hand and Petra cradled in the crook of his left arm. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, he reflected. Petra was in recharge and he was half-tempted to take a nap himself, considering the activities he'd gotten up to with her sire the night before. He didn't get a chance to follow through on that thought, hearing footsteps coming into his office.

"This is becoming a routine with you, I think," Ultra Magnus said.

Optimus met his optics. "Jazz watched Petra this morning, and I offered to take her this afternoon," he said. "Besides, it's not like I have much else to do right now."

"You could be using your time more wisely," Magnus said, pulling up a chair.

"In what manner?" Optimus asked.

"Trying to teach Hot Rod about being a leader," Magnus said.

"I've tried," Optimus said.

"Not hard enough," Magnus said.

"You try then," Optimus said. "He's had to learn by example, like I did. If you think you can do better, be my guest."

"I have tried in the past," Magnus said. "Which is why Kup had the. . .pleasure of Hot Rod's initial training when he joined the Autobots, not Ironhide."

"Kup's told me something of it," Optimus said.

"But not all of it, correct?" Magnus said.

"No," Optimus said.

"Hot Rod and Springer were training with Ironhide, along with several other new recruits, but Ironhide quickly realized hot Rod was going to take a special touch, so he was given to Kup to train. I remember what Kup said--he'd train Hot Rod or they'd both die in the effort. And they both nearly did," Magnus said. "They beat the slag out of each other," Ironhide said. "But that was the turning point--Hot Rod realized he couldn't beat Kup, no matter how hard he tried. Kup succeeded, taught him respect, tempered that cockiness. He came along way. But this. . .being a Prime, he's changed, for the better, I think."

"Rodimus has had a hard road," Optimus said. "As have I. I haven't made it easy for him, either."

Magnus frowned. "He seems to be doing well."

"He is," Optimus said. "But things have, and still are. . .complicated."

"You're talking in riddles," Magnus said, deciding to change the subject. "I still can't believe you let Hot Rod reproduce."

"I did not let him 'do' anything," Optimus said.

"Well, answer me this--if you're not Petra's other creator, who is?"

"Petra has only one genitor," Optimus said. "Her creation was the result of an unauthorized experiment involving the Matrix of Leadership. Which reminds me--Perceptor still hasn't been punished for that particular stunt."

"What?"

"Ratchet can explain it in further detail, if you wish," Optimus said. "And while we're on the subject of illicit activities, you're sporting a new appearance. Would you like to explain that?"

"Not really," Magnus mumbled.

"I'll find out, won't I?"

"Yes," Magnus said. "However, it really shouldn't matter, because you're not in charge."

"I may not be in charge at the moment, but I am still your Prime," Optimus said.

"Don't pull rank on me," Magnus said.

"I will if I want," Optimus said. "Aft head. Don't you have anything better to do besides bother me?"

"I do have a stack of mission reports to read," Magnus said.

"Better get to it then," Optimus said, smiling at his friend.


	68. Chapter 68

Precipitous

Chapter 68-Fluctiation

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

For once, Optimus Prime was grateful he'd been roused from a peaceful recharge in his own berth. A cold, empty, lonely berth. He pushed the thought from his head, headed toward Rodimus' quarters. The other Prime needed help with Petra. Again. He had the access code, so he let himself in, finding Rodimus sitting on the edge of his berth, holding the restless sparkling in his arms.

"What's wrong this time?" Optimus asked.

"The usual," Hot Rod said. "She won't take any energon from me."

"Give her to me," Optimus said, offering Petra an energon line as she settled into his arms. "Have you been mixing the additives Ratchet recommended into your energon."

"No," Hot Rod said, watching as the sparkling took the line Optimus offered. "I didn't know. . ."

"See? Makes the energon more palatable for sparklings," Optimus said. "Get them from Wheeljack so you avoid a confrontation with Ratchet."

"I will."

"You should," Optimus said. "You can't keep counting on the rest of us to take care of her all the time. I don't mind, but. . ."

"I know," Hot Rod said. "She's my responsibility."

"I didn't mean to imply you're not taking responsibility for Petra, or neglecting her care. . ."

"I didn't, it's just hard trying to take care of her the way she should be when I have so much to deal with," Hot Rod said.

"You're not alone," Optimus said. "I think by now you would accept that. And you don't have to stay here, you know, in your quarters. . .you're still welcome to stay in my quarters when you desire. Even more so now, if you wish."

"Do you want us to?" Hot Rod asked, surprised.

"I would not mind," Optimus said. "I miss both of you when you're not around."

"But are you ready for permanent co-habitation," Hot Rod said. "I'm not yet, anyway."

"I've given it much consideration recently," Optimus said. "I would not mind sharing my quarters with you and Petra on a more permanent basis. However, I will respect your wishes, though the offer stands."

"Thanks," Hot Rod said.

-----

Ultra Magnus made his way to his quarters from ops. He'd spent the evening observing Kup, who was in charge of the shift that night. He would have to take his own turn soon enough, covering for Prowl. So much to learn and many adjustments to make, and little time for it. But he would do it. He'd done it before, and would again.

A planet full of sentient organics as a new home. The humans he could deal with, but the planet's climate and geology was going to be interesting when it came to tactics and fighting. He'd have to talk with Prowl and Ironhide about how they adapted to it, their recommendations. And all the other changes--Hot Rod a Prime, the Allspark destroyed, possession of the Matrix and sparklings. How could Optimus allow that when they were still fighting? He knew how his friend could justify it because he'd heard Optimus' rationale more than once. The war couldn't keep them from living their lives.

Magnus couldn't blame anyone for wanting something beyond the endless fighting, death and destruction. He'd even thought about it once, but that opportunity passed him by, and he doubted it would come again. Didn't matter though. He had his duty, his friends. It was enough. It had to be enough.

-----

Hot Rod lay awake, listening to the steady sound of Optimus' intakes, his arms wrapped around the other mech, spooned together in his berth. It was the only way they'd both fit. Petra was also in recharge in her own little berth. That was one problem he didn't have much anymore with the sparkling--trying to get her to rest.

Himself on the other hand, at least tonight, was another story. He knew he and Optimus needed to have another talk, this time about where their relationship was going. Not yet though. He was kicking himself because he finally had what he wanted, but now he was holding back. It could change, could all be taken away in an instant. But wasn't the reward worth the risk? So far, it was, but would it continue to be? He hoped so as he finally let himself drift off into recharge.


	69. Chapter 69

Precipitous

Chapter 69-Concurrence

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Springer did a double take as he exited the quarters he shared with Ironhide, staring down the corridor at the scene taking place in front of Hot Rod's door. His Prime and Hot Rod. Together. Exiting the quarters at the same time. Like maybe *something* had finally happened.

Prime carrying Petra, the three looking every bit a family unit. He didn't say anything as they passed, merely gave the leader of the Wreckers an amused glance. Hot Rod was never one to pass up an opportunity to bug his best friend.

"Spring, you might want to close your mouth before a swarm of insecticons flies inside," Hot Rod said.

Springer shut his mouth, stepped back into his quarters with a frown on his face.

"What's wrong with you?" Ironhide asked.

"Nothing," Springer said. "Gotta go."

"You're not on duty for another half-hour," Ironhide said.

"I kind of need to go have a talk with Rodi," Springer said. "Or not. . ."

Yeah. He'd wait. He didn't want Rodi to think he was ambushing him about his newly established relationship. Hardly. He just wanted to see if things were finally headed in the right direction.

"Talk to him tonight," Ironhide said. "He's busy enough as it is, and you should wait until he's off duty."

"Good idea," Springer said. "See you later."

88888

Instead of Hot Rod being ambushed about his new relationship status, it was Optimus who had that honor. Ironhide decided to find out for himself, considering the lack of fireworks between the two Primes. Things had been relatively quiet between the two over the past several days. That was enough to make him wonder if something finally happened. With that in mind, Ironhide let himself into Optimus Prime's office.

Ironhide regarded his friend, who was ignoring him. Trying anyway.

"You and Rodimus seem to be on friendlier terms," he said.

Optimus didn't look up.

"Possibly, but I don't see how that's any of your business," he said.

"I'm guessing you two finally fragged each other senseless," Ironhide said. "I hope."

No answer. Just Optimus staring intently at the data pad in his hand, his grip ever so slightly tightened on the device.

"Fine. I'll ask Springer," Ironhide said. "He'll get it out of Rodi, and I'll know."

"As I said, it's none of your business," Optimus said.

"It is my business if you're being too damn stubborn and stupid for your own good," Ironhide said. "How are we ever going to guarantee there's another Prime if something happens to your precious aft? Or Rodimus?"

"If you like, I'm sure I can get Kup and Ratchet to help me hold you down and brand you with the mark," Optimus said, glancing at Ironhide over the top of his data pad. "You can be Prime then. That idea works for me. I can retire. Maybe Rodimus will want to come along."

"Yeah. And you two can get busy sparking a bunch of little Primes," Ironhide said. "You two have a good start with Petra, but I'll bet you want more than one sparkling."

"My future sparklings are not fodder for speculation," Optimus said.

"Oh, so you are considering it," Ironhide said.

No, actually, that hadn't come up. Yet. Again, it was none of his friend's business, so Optimus decided to turn the tables.

"When are you and Springer bonding?" Optimus asked.

"I'll let you know," Ironhide said, turning to walk out of the office. "Aft head."

88888

Busy taking inventory in the med bay, Ratchet wasn't surprised to see Hot Rod walk in. The young mech usually dropped by when he had a question about his daughter, or just to talk. And the medic was always glad to help when the other Autobot wasn't being a cocky pain in the aft.

"I have a question. . ." Hot Rod said.

"What?" Ratchet said, still working.

"Well. . ."

"Out with it," Ratchet said. "Is it about Petra?"

"No," Hot Rod said. "It's about something else. . .Is it normal to still uh. . .I can still feel Optimus, like an echo in my head and my spark. . ."

Ratchet's head snapped around "What?"

"Forget it," Hot Rod said.

"No, sit down," Ratchet said, setting down his data pad.

Hot Rod sighed, venting air. "The other night, Optimus and I, we, well, it was the first time I ever interfaced, and I wanted to know. . ."

"Let me get this straight-you've never interfaced before?" Ratchet asked.

"Do we have to talk about this?" Hot Rod snapped.

"You can still feel Optimus? Can he still sense you?" Ratchet said.

"I haven't asked him," Hot Rod said.

"It is unusual, but not unheard of," Ratchet said. "You're both Primes, have both carried the Matrix, so there is probably a bond between you, temporary. Don't worry about it."

"So this is normal?" Hot Rod asked, relieved.

"A bit out of the ordinary, as I said," Ratchet said. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. If you have anymore questions, you know you can always stop by."

Hot Rod smiled. "Thanks, Ratch."

The medic watched him go, thinking. Ratchet left out the part about the beginnings of a bond. It was known to happen, but he'd let the two Primes figure that one out on their own.


	70. Chapter 70

Precipitous

Chapter 70-Rupture

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Decepticons sighted in the mountains outside Mexico City, and the NEST teams deployed to deal with them were 12 hours out. Optimus was busy working in his office, keeping himself occupied so he wouldn't worry. He had several good reasons to be worried-the description of two of the Decepticons matched Soundwave and Shockwave, two of the enemy's most powerful soldiers. Another reason was Rodimus was leading the team, with Ultra Magnus along on his first field mission since his arrival to Earth. Also along were Ironhide, Ratchet, Roadbuster and Drift.

They would be fine, he hoped. But that wasn't all he was thinking about. Ratchet had given Prowl a clean bill of health before leaving-something good. The sparkling his second in command carried was healthy, and doing fine. That was a relief for the medic, as well as Prowl, Sideswipe and Jazz, who'd finally announced Prowl was carrying. A party was planned to celebrate when the two field teams returned, and Sunstreaker was taking bets on what his brother's offspring would be.

Thinking of offspring made Optimus think of Petra, who Kup was watching while he worked. He missed the little femme when she wasn't around, along with her sire. The two had become so much a part of his life in such a short time. And having Petra and the other sparklings on base made Optimus think about one day having his own offspring. But that was something for the future. He had work to finish.

88888

Kup sat in the rec room, holding Petra in his arms, sharing a table with Springer and Ironhide. He wondered when the two would come clean and tell him about their relationship. It was fun watching them, though, acting like they weren't mates. He almost asked them about it when they were interrupted by Red Alert, who had fire in her optics.

"What in the Pit are you doing with that sparkling?" she asked.

"Watching her for Optimus," Kup said.

"He's crazier than I thought, letting you watch her," Red Alert said.

"I know how to take care of a sparkling," Kup said, holding the little femme up for Red Alert to see. Petra chirped when she saw the other femme, and settled back against Kup. "See? She's fine. Don't you have a med bay to clean or something?"

Ironhide and Springer exchanged a glance. Kup was playing with fire.

"I'm off duty, you antique," Red Alert said, pulling up a chair beside Kup. She watched him with the sparkling a few moments, and she had to concede Petra was indeed fine. "You are good with her."

"Thanks," Kup said, giving the medic a sidelong glance. "Would you like me to get you some energon?"

"I'd appreciate that," Red Alert said. Kup set Petra in her arms, and went to get more energon.

"You should be kinder to Kup," Ironhide said. "Don't you think you've both suffered enough?"

"That's none of your business," Red Alert said. "You've never been bonded."

"No, but you're the most pig-headed femme in the universe," Ironhide said. "Kup's a good mech. You should give him a chance. Let's go, Springer."

The black mech stood, ignored the confused look Springer was giving him. Kup watched them go as he sat back down at the table.

"Huh. Those two must have something to do," Kup said, handing Red Alert a container of energon.

"Thank you," she muttered.

"So, what do you think Prowl's sparkling will be? Or do you know?" Kup asked.

"It's too early to tell, and even if I did know if it was a mech or femme, I couldn't tell you because of medic-patient confidentiality," Red Alert said, rocking Petra in her arms. "But if I had to guess, I think it's a femme."

Kup smiled. "Another femme would be a good thing," he said. "So many were lost during the war."

"Megatron thought we were weak, therefore did not deserve the right to exist," Red Alert said.

"That's were he was wrong," Kup said. "Femmes might be smaller and lighter in build, but you more than make up for it with speed and agility. I've seen you fight, and I do not want to be on the receiving end."

Well, technically, he had been on the receiving end of arguments with the femme, more than once, in the past. She must've been thinking the same thing because she was staring at the table.

"Ironhide was right about what he said about you a few minutes ago," Red Alert said.

"What did he say?" Kup asked.

"That you're a good mech, and we've both suffered enough," Red Alert said.

"Is that an apology?" Kup said.

"Almost," she said, giving him a small smile.

"Getting closer," Kup said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

88888

Pain. . .searing pain in his chest. . .

A high-pitched scream bringing him out of recharge, Optimus Prime rolled off his berth, rubbing the armor over his spark while he picked up Petra, trying to comfort the sparkling.

"It's all right, bright spark," Optimus said, rocking the little femme, but she wouldn't settle, and the pain in his spark was replaced by a dull ache, and in the back of his mind, confusion, fear, anger, and pain. Why in the Pit would he be confused? He was fine, in his own quarters, with Petra. . .Rodimus. It had to be Rodimus. But why. . .At the moment, it didn't matter. He held Petra close as he headed toward ops to get a report on the mission status. It would save Jazz from having to wake him if things were indeed heading south.


	71. Chapter 71

Precipitous

Chapter 71-Proximate

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Jazz didn't meet his Prime's optics. He kept staring at the screen in front of him, willing the transmission to come back online. So far, it wasn't happening.

"They're under attack," Jazz said. "Graham got a message through-Rodimus is down, some of the humans are dead, and then we lost contact."

"Have you tried sending. . ." Optimus started.

"Reinforcements? Interference on the ground is keeping us from doing an orbital bounce to get anyone in," Jazz said.

"That means they're facing Soundwave," Optimus said.

Jazz nodded, offering up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening.

88888

Ratchet knelt beside the fallen Hot Rod, trying to avoid getting his head shot off while stabilizing his patient. Drift was with him, firing back at the Decepticons.

"Hold him," Ratchet said. Drift tried helping, but Hot Rod wasn't listening, nor were the Decepticons going to stop fighting long enough for him to stabilize his patient. But Drift held on, steadying the violently convulsing mech beneath him long enough for Ratchet to plunge something into one of the energon lines in Hot Rod's neck.

Magnus was screaming for them to retreat, while being pursued by Shockwave, and Roadbuster was finishing with Soundwave. The humans were running for the planes. Plane, after Shockwave blew one of the C-17s to bits. Then the second. Magnus didn't have many options. He had one weapon in his arsenal, left over from the old days, something he never hoped to use. It might not kill the Decepticons, but it would create enough chaos so they could get away. He only hoped Wheeljack and Perceptor were wrong about Cybertronian beaming technology being fatal to humans. He unsubspaced the foldspace bomb, throwing it at the nearest Decepticon, who happened to be Soundwave. It stuck to the mech's leg, and Magnus sent a pulse, activating the bomb. He screamed for the humans to hit the ground, and the bomb activated in a flash of light. Magnus shielded his optics, but Graham and Lennox, who were nearby, did not. They watched as the the space around the Decepticon warped and it looked as if Soundwave's body collapsed in on itself.

Shockwave stopped grappling with Roadbuster, turning his attention to Magnus. But before the Decepticon reached him, all of the humans and Autobots disappeared in multiple shafts of light.

88888

One moment Lennox was watching Shockwave tear Roadbuster apart, the next he was buckling in half on the tarmac at Diego Garcia. Graham was beside him, down on his hands and knees, puking his guts out before rolling over onto his back, passing out. Lennox managed to hold his lunch long enough to yell for a medic before he, too, succumbed.

Epps was screaming for the medics to hurry, where the hell was Red Alert and anybody else, didn't they know they had wounded? He calmed noticeably with the presence of Optimus Prime and Jazz, but Jazz caught the human as he lost his balance.

"Thanks," Epps said. "Whatever the hell you guys did to get us back here, thanks, but I don't ever want to experience that again."

"You're lucky to be alive," Jazz said.

"Well, I don't know how many are," Epps said, not arguing for once as Jazz carried him toward a waiting human medic. "Optimus, I think you might wanna find Ratchet. Rodimus was hurt pretty bad."

"Go," Jazz said. "I'll take care of this mess."

That, Epps reflected, was an understatement. The human NEST personnel still standing were starting to help the wounded and pick up the dead. But thank God most everyone was still alive, Epps thought.

88888

Red Alert was waiting in the Xantium med bay for Ratchet, Jazz having kept her apprised of the situation. Roadbuster was also injured, but he was still standing.

Hot Rod had a smoking, sparking wound to the left of his spark chamber, near his shoulder.

"I think Shockwave missed his spark, and it's not all the way through, but he caused a lot of damage," Ratchet told Red Alert. "Call Perceptor. We're going to need his help."

The femme did as she was told, and Blurr beamed the scientist into the med bay, and they got to work.

88888

Magnus sat with Optimus in the other mech's quarters, drinking the high grade his friend offered. They'd been talking off and on for three hours with no word from the medics.

"He'll be all right," Magnus said. "I think it looked worse than it was, but I can't be sure."

"You're not helping," Optimus said.

"Where's Petra?" Magnus asked.

"With Prowl and Sideswipe," Optimus said.

"Hot Rod fought bravely," Magnus said. "He's truly worthy of being a Prime."

Optimus said nothing as he again felt confusion, and a little pain. What the hell was going on?

:Prime, get your aft over to the Xantium. Now:

:Have someone bounce me over to the. . .ship: he finished as he appeared outside the Xantium's med bay, the doors opening in front of him.

Ratchet was waiting for him as he entered, standing by the berth occupied by Hot Rod, watching the monitors connected to the other mech.

"Rodimus nearly got himself killed tonight," Ratchet said. "But he's going to live. Shockwave didn't hit his spark chamber, but his shoulder was a mess. He's stable for now, an we're going to finish the repairs tomorrow."

"He hasn't been awake since you got back?" Optimus asked.

"A few moments of confusion before you got here, but I gave him something for the pain and put him back under," Ratchet said. "Why?"

"Earlier, before. . .Petra woke screaming, and I felt a pain in my chest, not as bad as what happened with Megatron, but bad enough. . .and confusion," Optimus said. "Can you explain why?"

Uh oh, Ratchet thought. But he had to spit it out.

"I think the two of you have the beginnings of a bond forming," Ratchet said. "Rodimus said a few days ago he can still feel an echo of you in his head and his spark."

Optimus didn't say a word. He only stared at the medic in shock.


	72. Chapter 72

Precipitous

Chapter 72-Affinity

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet was joined by Red Alert, who smacked the other medic in the back of the head while Optimus looked from one medic to the other.

"You could have handled that with more tact," Red Alert said, crossing her arms, glaring at Ratchet.

"How can this be?" Optimus asked.

"You've both carried the Matrix, you're both Primes, you can still feel each other, and the beginnings of a bond mean you have highly compatible sparks," Ratchet said. "I told Rodimus it's unusual, but it sometimes happens."

"Or it could be a strong temporary bond," Red Alert said. "Which sometimes happens. Besides, you two have a strong emotional connection. You have since you met."

Ratchet placed a hand on Optimus' shoulder. "Don't worry about that now," he said. "Go get some rest. I'll call you if anything changes."

"All right," Optimus said, giving Hot Rod one last glance as he exited the med bay.

Once he was gone, Ratchet turned his attention to the femme.

"You're wrong, and you know it," he said.

"You could be," Red Alert said. "They've barely come to terms with their feelings for one another, and you throw this wrench at them. Do you want their relationship to fail?"

"I want them to be aware of what could be going on between them," Ratchet said. "I'm an older, more experienced medic. I've seen this before."

"Whatever," Red Alert said.

88888

Magnus felt a hand on his shoulder as he walked down the corridor toward his quarters. He turned around. Perceptor. The scientist's expression was a mix of concern and exasperation.

"Are you all right?"

"Not really," Magnus answered.

"Are you injured?" Perceptor asked.

"No," Magnus said.

Perceptor ran a quick scan.

"You are injured, and need medical attention," he said. "You should. . ."

"I'm going to my quarters, and I'm going to try and forget tonight," Magnus said. "I could have gotten the humans killed. Hot Rod nearly died."

"He's fine, resting right now," Perceptor said. "We're going to finish his repairs in the morning. And the humans-it's nice to be proven wrong once in a while. Now that we know they can survive the beaming process, we can fine-tune it so they do not become ill during transit."

"I thought Optimus said we're not sharing our advanced technology with the humans," Magnus said.

"There is a difference between them using it and studying it," Perceptor said.

"Percy, I'm not in the mood for a lecture," Magnus said, using his old name for the scientist.

"I know," Perceptor said, wrapping his arms around Magnus. "I'm glad you're all right."

"Thanks," Magnus said. "But I think you should go. . ."

"I'm not leaving you alone tonight," Perceptor said. "Come, Magnus."

He grabbed Magnus' hand, leading him toward his quarters, and once inside, the scientist kissed the other mech, but Magnus pushed him away.

"Perce, you can stay, but. . ."

"No buts, Magnus," Perceptor said. "I don't expect anything of you. Just let me be with you."

With that, Perceptor wrapped his arms around the other mech, gratified when Magnus leaned into his embrace. "You always were too stubborn for your own good," Perceptor said.

Magnus silenced him with a kiss. There would be time for talk and regret in the morning.

88888

Jazz walked into the quarters he was now sharing with Prowl and Sideswipe. Prowl had bigger quarters than they had, so moving into his space was the logical step for their relationship. The human wounded and dead were dealt with, and the mostly unharmed were tucked safely away in their quarters. Now it was Jazz's turn to get some rest with the latest crisis dealt with. Kup had taken over the watch in ops, and they were to stand down for 24 hours for rest, repair and to deal with the fallout of the battle in Mexico.

Jazz smiled, seeing Sideswipe curled around Prowl in the berth. Who ever would've thought they'd spark something (literally) with Prowl? Their sparkling was healthy, and Prowl was doing fine. Something to be thankful for, Jazz reflected as he gently shook Sideswipe awake.

Blue optics unshuttered, lighting up the room.

"What's up?" Sideswipe asked.

"Ultra Magnus and the others are back, and Kup's asking for you in ops," Jazz said. "I'll take over with Prowl"

Sideswipe started to ask a question, but Jazz shook his head. "No questions. Just go to ops. Kup will explain. Things are a mess right now, but it'll be all right."

Sideswipe disentangled himself from Prowl, giving Jazz a quick peck before leaving. Jazz laid down next to Prowl, who didn't stir once. A "mess" was an understatement. The sight on the tarmac first few seconds after the orbital bounce that brought everyone back to base was one Jazz would not soon forget. He thought all of the humans were dead, probably some of his fellow Autobots, too. No Autobot dead, but five humans lost. He shuddered. Too close. Always too close when they lost even one human, because it could just as easily be a fallen Autobot. But he pushed that thought from his mind. Prowl was warm beside him, and that was enough for Jazz to fall into recharge.


	73. Chapter 73

Precipitous

Chapter 73-Unbalance

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime sat down on his berth, thinking. A bond. How could that be? He wanted a bond. . .but would Rodimus? Optimus knew if there was indeed a bond forming, he would accept it. Was there even a choice? Choice or not, they were on dangerous ground. Being involved with another Autobot was one thing, bonding another matter. If the war was over, he'd bond with Rodimus in an instant, if he would accept. But the war was not over, and a bond could be fatal.

Optimus vented air. Maybe Ratchet was wrong, and Red Alert was right. He hoped. If not, it was one more hurdle they were going to have to deal with.

88888

Sunstreaker was half-awake, keeping an audio out for the twins, who were finally in recharge. He glanced at Arcee, who was already deep in recharge, her head pillowed on his chest. He started to relax, just a little. This whole responsible sire/mate thing still had him freaked beyond belief, but it was worth it. Scary, but worth it. He was happy. Sideswipe was too, but Sunstreaker hoped for his twin's sake, as well as Jazz and Prowl, everything worked out.

Ratchet said everything was all right with Prowl and the life he carried. Sunstreaker had felt the relief his twin felt through their bond. He was also now aware the mission Rodimus lead had, as they usually did, headed south. Sideswipe had roused him through their bond, explaining what happened, and asked if his twin could help Jazz and Prowl if they needed assistance with Petra.

The little femme kept getting passed around, and for her sake, Sunstreaker wished Optimus and Rodimus would formalize their relationship and get it over with. Everyone, well, almost everyone knew they were involved, and the sparks between them would be obvious to a Dynobot. Hell, even Prowl had finally wised up. It had taken dying to do it, but he had, and that was all that mattered. Hopefully Optimus Prime would come to his senses, too.

88888

Magnus woke, Perceptor still in his arms. He vented air in a sigh. Why had he let Perceptor stay? They'd 'faced. How could he not? He only hoped the scientist didn't expect a renewal of their former relationship. The bigger mech went to move away from the other bot, but Perceptor kissed him.

"Stay," he said, settling closer to Magnus' bigger frame. "I'll comm Ratchet."

"Empty threats don't work with me, Perce," Magnus said, nipping at the scientist's neck. "I have work to do."

"You're off for 24 hours," Perceptor said. "I have to help with Rodimus' repairs later, but for now, I'm staying right where I am, and so are you."

"I never could win an argument with you," Magnus said.

"I don't argue. I present truth and facts. You always argued," Perceptor said. "Therefore I'm always right."

"Keep telling yourself that, Perce," Magnus said.

"You should see Wheeljack later about your repairs," Perceptor said.

"Later," Magnus said, pressing a kiss to the scientist's helm. He settled back against Perceptor. No, how could he argue when he'd already lost?

88888

Graham waited for news about his friend, standing outside the med bay, peeking around the door at Optimus Prime while he listened to Red Alert. The Autobot leader's optics weren't focused on the femme; instead, his gaze was locked on Rodimus. Not surprising, considering the status of their relationship.

Graham had noticed lately his friend was more at ease around Optimus, more relaxed in general, more ready with his devil may care smile than he had in months. And he hadn't been the one to bring it up. Rodimus had volunteered the information himself weeks before. He was happy for his friend, and hoped things worked out. Well, they would if Rodimus could keep himself out of the line of fire.

Catching Optimus looking his way, Graham stepped back, but the Autobot motioned for him to come in.

"He'll be glad to know you're here," Optimus said. "You can stay, if it's all right with Red Alert. I have work to do, and I can't stay."

"Lennox knows where I am," Graham said. "How is Rodimus?"

"He'll be up and around in a few days, but he won't be seeing combat anytime soon," Red Alert said.

Optimus squeezed the femme's shoulder as he left, leaving the medic alone with the human. Graham found a crate to sit on, and turned on his Ipad, watching the medic go on about her work, checking the monitors hooked up to Rodimus.

The mech was still offline, an energon line feeding into his left arm, replacing what he'd lost during the battle in Mexico. When he woke, Red Alert planned on having a long discussion with the young Prime about his battle tactics. He had severed energon lines and broken the main struts of his left shoulder and upper arm, the equivalent of a broken shoulder blade along with the damage to his chest armor. A few inches more, and his spark would have been extinguished.

The sound of human footsteps made the medic look up. Lennox was standing at the med bay door, looking around. He walked over to Graham, and the medic turned her attention back to her patient.

"Mind telling me whey Optimus is so freaked Hot Rod nearly got himself killed again?" Lennox asked.

Uh oh, Graham thought. Lennox was not going to go to that place. The place Graham had been dreading. Sure. Easy. No problem telling the CO the two Primes were now lovers. He was still wrapping his head around that news himself.

"I noticed they're spending a lot of time together," Lennox said. "I mean, I'm glad they've finally stopped trying to kill each other. . ."

Graham watched Lennox twitch.

"Something the matter, sir?" he asked.

"What?" Lennox asked, turning white.

"Sir, maybe you should sit down," Graham suggested.

"He's shagging the punk?" Lennox asked.

Graham nodded in affirmation.

"Great," Lennox said.


	74. Chapter 74

Precipitous

Chapter 74-Preterite

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Lennox stopped in the corridor outside Optimus Prime's office, thinking. Should he say anything about the Primes' relationship? The U.S. Army had rules against fraternization. The Autobots did not. However, considering how much they'd lost, maybe it was a good thing they didn't have the same rules. Well, Ultra Magnus grumbled about protocol now and then, but that bot was stricter than Prowl. And Prowl was in a three-way relationship, and expecting. Talk about throwing caution and protocol to the wind. . .Yeah. Though that didn't even begin to cover the relationship between the Primes.

He figured Graham probably deserved a reaming about keeping information from his commanding officer, but it fell into a grey area he wasn't ready to touch. Alien species, personal information, not yet crossing into TMI territory. He'd avoid that at all costs if possible. The Primes' relationship status, he figured, he'd reveal to his commanding officer only. Morshower needed to know. Galloway. . .No need to tell him. Wasn't his business. Lennox valued his life, and truly loved his assignment. However, if the higher-ups wanted details on the biology and psychology of Cybertronian reproduction and relationships, he'd make sure Graham prepared and presented that report to Morshower. Served his second in command right for not telling him sooner about Optimus and Rodimus. He grinned to himself at that, but schooled his face as he entered Optimus' office. And he didn't mince words.

"So you two are together?" Lennox asked.

"Yes," Optimus said.

"You're happy?"

"I have something I have longed for," Optimus said.

"A family?"

"Yes," Optimus said.

"Can't say I agree with your choice, but I know where you're coming from," Lennox said. "I wouldn't trade being husband and father for anything."

"I never thought I would be afforded another chance to care for someone so much. . .and there is Petra," Optimus said.

"You're good with her," Lennox said. "I supposed you want more than one kid?"

"I had given up hope of ever having what I have now," Optimus said. "I was reluctant to get involved with anyone again. However, I'm glad I let Rodimus breach my defenses.

"What would make you gun-shy?" Lennox asked, wondering what would make Optimus Prime reluctant to get involved with someone. The Autobot leader was one of the most compassionate, caring beings the human had ever met. He couldn't imagine someone like Optimus _not_ wanting to be with someone.

"I lost Elita-1," Optimus said. "I cared for her a great deal. We were very close, and talked of bonding, but because of the war, and Elita's own feelings regarding the issue, I never pursued it further. At one time, we had talked of reconciliation, but she was lost in battle before anything came of it."

"What would you do if she were alive?" Lennox asked.

"That part of my life is over," Optimus said, ending the conversation.

Lennox took the hint, leaving the Autobot leader alone.

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	75. Chapter 75

Precipitous

Chapter 75-Desiderate

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Asking about getting out of the med bay probably wasn't the best idea, Hot Rod reflected. Watching Ratchet work, listening to the medic curse under his breath were welcome for once. It meant he'd survived another battle. Waking up in the med bay, not such a good idea, though. He wondered where Optimus was, and whether or not Petra was with him. He felt fine, and his shoulder ached, and he was mostly in one piece. And then Red Alert was beside him, scanning him.

"You need to be more careful," she said, smacking him on the back of his helm.

"I'm working on it," Hot Rod said, rubbing his head.

"No, you will be more careful," she said. "You have a sparkling to consider, and there's Optimus."

"If anything happens to me, I know Optimus will take care of her."

"That's not what I meant," Red Alert said.

"I know where this is heading," Hot Rod said. "We were outgunned."

"No reason to get yourself killed," she said. "It's called a retreat. There's no harm in running to fight another day."

"But. . ."

"No buts," she said. "You mechs are so quick to throw your lives away. . ."

"I'm still alive," Hot Rod said.

"Stay that way," Red Alert replied. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, actually," Hot Rod said. "And I have to ask—was Optimus here last night? I could've sworn I felt his presence. . ."

Ratchet's head snapped up from the console he was working on, optics meeting Red Alert's. Optimus Prime had not been in the med bay since the afternoon before. :I told you I was right.: Ratchet commed the femme.

:You could still be wrong.:

:Does it matter?:

She glared, turning her attention back to Hot Rod. "He was here for a bit, but he didn't want to be away from Petra for long," Red Alert said. "They should be by later. You still need to rest. If you tear apart that newly-repaired shoulder, I will hurt you."

"Like I'm afraid," Hot Rod said, grinning at the femme.

"Nice to see you've got your bravado back, sparkling," she said. "Get some recharge, will you? Remember, compliant patients get out of the med bay faster."

She said the last, smiling sweetly at Ratchet, who threw a wrench her way, but she snatched it out of the air, throwing it back. Ratchet didn't catch it, as it clanged off his helm. Red Alert pointed at Hot Rod, who had offlined his optics in an attempt to do as ordered.

"My patients like me," she said.

"They're afraid of you," Ratchet said. "I taught you well."

"You still need to learn tact and civility," Red Alert said.

"Who's CMO?"  
"Keep getting uppity and I'm going back to the Xantium," she said.

"And leave me alone with this bunch of crazies?" Ratchet asked.

"You have Perceptor and Wheeljack to help out," Red Alert said.

"I know that, but you'd be leaving me alone without another sane, trained medical professional with which to communicate," Ratchet said.

"You haven't been sane in a long time," she said. "I should declare you unfit for duty. Prime would back me up."

"Which one?" Ratchet said. "I could use a vacation. . ."

"Take a day off," Red Alert suggested. "I think I can manage for a day or two."

"I will if you will," Ratchet said. "As of now, you're off for the next 48 hours. No arguing. Go sit on the beach, or take a turn in ops on the watch. Go play with Petra or the twins. Just don't bother me unless it's a medical emergency."

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Ultra Magnus was bored. He'd spent part of the morning with Perceptor, until the other mech had to go help with Hot Rod's repairs. Then he'd gone to Wheeljack's lab to submit for repairs himself. And he wasn't feeling up to going over protocols needing updates or reports or anything like it, so he headed to the rec room. He wasn't surprised to find Optimus at a table, Petra in the crook of one of his Prime's arms while he read a data pad. The Prime looked up when he heard his friend.

"May I hold her?" Magnus asked, sitting down by Optimus.

Optimus set the sparkling in Magnus' outstretched arms. Chirping and warbling at the big mech, she settled against him.

"She likes you," Optimus said.

"I've never held one so small before," Magnus said. "She's beautiful."

"Is it so hard to believe she came from Rodimus?" Optimus said.

"No," Magnus said. "I'm amazed, that's all, by her and Arcee and Sunstreaker's twins. New life after so much death and destruction. . ."

"It does give me hope that one day we can end the war and get on with our lives," Optimus said.

"Some among us already are," Magnus said. "And it worries me that we now have sparklings among us. The Decepticons must not find out."

"So far, they're unaware of their presence," Optimus said.

"We must keep it that way," Ultra Magnus said. "Or there is no hope for our race."

"Magnus, there is always hope," Optimus said. "Even in the darkest hour."

"Elita always believed that, and look where it got her," Magnus said.

"Strange you should mention Elita," Optimus said. "Lennox and I were talking about her just the other day."

"You miss her, don't you?" Magnus asked.

"How could I not? But as I told Lennox, that part of my life is over, and I've moved on," Optimus said. "I have Rodimus, and Petra, but I never once regretted my relationship with Elita. Never."

"You're fortunate to have them. I don't begrudge you that, but there was only one time I ever truly envied you," Magnus said. "When Elita-1 chose you."


	76. Chapter 76

Precipitous

Chapter 76-Cerebrate

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The words hung in the air, Optimus unsure of what to say, but Petra broke the silence, whistling shrilly, feeling his distress through his energy field.

"Had I known of your feelings, I gladly would have 'bowed out' as the humans say," Optimus said. "Elita could have chosen you instead of me."

"But she didn't," Magnus said. "Enough talk of the past. We need to discuss the immediate future, how we're going to deal with further Decepticon incursions."

"I know," Optimus said. "Any suggestions?"

"We should take on a more offensive approach when it comes to the Decepticons," Magnus said. "Starting with no longer waiting for something to happen, we go out looking for them. With the Xantium here, we have more of a chance to do so."

"You can suggest that to Gen. Morshower during the next morning briefing, but submit a proposal to Capt. Lennox first," Optimus said. "I'll let Rodimus know, and we'll go from there."

"When will you be back on active duty?" Magnus asked.

"Unknown," Optimus said. "I need to ask Ratchet, but considering how much he has going on right now, I might ask after Rodimus gets out of the med bay."

"Good idea," Magnus said. "Ratchet might be in a better humor after he clears out his patients."

"Your optimism is admirable," Optimus said.

"Wishful thinking, isn't it?"

"Yes," Optimus said. "But we give Ratchet what the humans call 'job security."

"He keeps himself well occupied," Magnus said. "Unlike some others I could name."

"There is no harm in a few pranks," Optimus said. "It helps maintain morale. Remember how rebellious the troops can get if their lives are so regimented they have no time for anything but training? Remember what happened?"

"Don't remind me," Magnus muttered. "And don't you dare mention it in front of Hot Rod, Springer, Ironhide or Kup. I'll never hear the end of it. They will never let me live it down. Again."

"Even Prowl has never had a mutiny on his hands," Optimus said.

"Can we please change the subject?" Magnus pleaded.

"Lighten up, Magnus," Optimus chided. "Yes, we can change the subject. Arrange a time to meet with Lennox to discuss your ideas, and keep me apprised."

"I will," Magnus said, handing Petra back to his Prime.

88888

A little downtime was always appreciated, but sometimes, Lennox thought, it gave him too much time to ponder. Like how the fact Optimus and Rodimus were together escaped him, and how certain people would react. Like Galloway. No need to tell him. Wasn't his business. Morshower, probably, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell him. He valued his life, and truly loved his assignment. The bots did deserve some happiness, and they were trying to rebuild their lives. It did complicate things, but who was he to judge?

88888


End file.
